


One Other Year

by tenshinokorin



Series: Running Down a Dream - (Main Story & B-sides) [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Multi, OT5, no unsolicited concrit please, running down a dream, traveling with your friends gives your next life meaning too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:05:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10383165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenshinokorin/pseuds/tenshinokorin
Summary: One more day inside this life. Sequel toRunning Down a Dream(series in general) &Tyrants and Kings(specifically).





	1. Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, you didn't think I'd stop there, did you?

The first stop was for lunch, and it was early. None of them could remember exactly when they'd last eaten anything, and they were all pretty sure it was before they'd died. "Nothing like resurrection to give one an appetite," Ignis had said, and Noct started looking for a good place to pull over. 

The main topic of discussion for the morning had been about the road. Because in spite of the fact that they were pretty sure nobody had been out onto this particular worldmap before, there was most definitely a real road under the Regalia's tires, and it ran straight as an arrow through the gently rolling hills and forest that surrounded it. It was not the faded asphalt of the Duscae landscape, but something primal and rune-carved, with a surface like granite and a driving-feel unlike anything Noct had ever encountered before. Nobody could quite agree if they'd inherited a world with the relics of some other civilization, or if the Astrals, in making this one, had laid out paths specifically for their use. Ignis said the former would be more interesting, and Noct said the latter was too fucking nice for the Astrals, honestly. Then he'd had to apologize for swearing in front of Luna; Luna had insisted that no one act any different than usual just because she was there; Ignis had said if she knew what usual was she'd say otherwise; and it had been awkward for a little bit until Gladio brought up lunch. 

Luckily, there was no other traffic anywhere on the planet. So when Noct saw a bit of stream and forest by a clearing he liked the looks of, he simply stopped the car and left it where it was in the middle of the road. 

"It still feels a little weird," he admitted, and out of habit, beeped the car alarm. 

"What does?" Prompto asked, rooting around in the trunk for the cooler. They couldn't carry everything in Noct's armiger anymore, and the trunk was stuffed with camping gear and luggage. Prompto even found his old duffel bag with the cactuar zipper-pull, and he was pretty sure he'd lost that in Gralea. It still had half a granola bar inside, as well as a pair of novelty socks that he in no way was going to wear while Luna was around. "The parking in the middle of the road, or the everything else?" 

Noct came to look over his shoulder. "The parking in the--is that a hammock?" 

"It is," Prompto said in some surprise. "We didn't have one before, did we?" 

"I hope that's not a problem," Luna apologized, as Noct unfolded it. "I took the liberty of adding a few things that I thought would be nice for the journey." 

"The only problem is if I can't find two trees close enough together," Noct said fervently, and went to find them. 

"I think I can do sandwiches," Ignis said, considering the contents of the cooler Prompto brought him. "There'll be no need for a fire until we stop for the evening, then. Although..." He paused, still looking at the food supplies in great consternation. "Hrm." 

"I'm afraid I know very little about cooking," Luna said. "Or anything of a practical nature, to be honest. Crowe and His--Regis helped me with the packing. Have I forgotten anything?" 

"Oh no no, my lady." Ignis gave her a look that was almost sheepish. "It's only--I'm not entirely sure if I can remember how to do this while I can _see_." He gently rebuffed her further offers of assistance, and while Gladio went for a walk to survey the area, Noct attempted to hang up his hammock himself in spite of never having done so before. The dogs were both very interested in whatever Ignis was doing, though too well-trained to do anything but watch attentively, and Luna was left to her own devices. After a few uncertain moments she walked back over to the car, where Prompto was perched on the hood and fiddling with his camera. 

"It's usually better to just stay out of the way," he said, without looking up at her. "At least, it's always been as far as I've found out." He held up his camera to his eye, sighting the line of the sky, and then made a face. 

"Is something wrong with your camera?" 

"Something's wrong with _me_ ," Prompto said, with a little laugh. "I don't remember my favorite daylight aperture settings anymore. Gonna have to learn everything all over again..." He trailed off then, catching Luna's frown through his viewfinder. "Hey, are you okay?" 

"Oh, of course." Luna gave him the beatific smile that she had used so often in her life, the serene and unassailable face of the chosen oracle. Prompto, as a man who knew full well what it meant to put on a front for the comfort of others, saw through it instantly. 

"Is it--oh, Noct's still fucking with that stupid hammock, isn't he? I can do that, I'll get him--" 

"No, don't. Wait." Luna put a hand on Prompto's arm, and this more than any spell she could have uttered froze him in place. "I don't wish to be a bother to anyone, please." 

Prompto blinked at her. "You're not a bother, Luna. I mean, take it from me, I'm the bother in this crowd. You really got to amp up the annoying factor if you want to try and beat me." 

"I don't believe that for a moment," Luna said, and her smile this time was no facade. Prompto found himself staring at the toes of his boots, muttering something unintelligible. Luna continued sadly, "But I fear Ravus might have been right." 

Prompto's head came up immediately. "Your brother? He's here?" 

Luna nodded. "Yes. Well, he is back at the castle, at any rate. And he told me I should have stayed there with him. That I should have let Noct travel with you three on his own, and to await his return." 

"But--" Prompto struggled with his general dislike of Ravus versus the fact that he must have been deemed okay enough by the Astrals to have the same second chance they all did. "Why would he say that? All the time we spent just trying to get Noct to you, why would--" 

"He seemed to think I would be intruding." Luna ran one hand over the sleek curve of the Regalia's hood. "Well. That is not quite how he put it. I recall 'nuisance' was the word he used." 

Prompto's mouth drew down in a scowl. "No offense, Luna, but your brother's kind of an asshole." 

She bit her lip as though she didn't want to smile. "He means well. I think really he simply did not want to see me have my feelings hurt. And perhaps I should have listened." 

"Did Noct say something rude to you? I swear to Shiva, he can be such a dic--jerk sometimes. He's just clueless, you gotta remember that--" 

"Oh no, it's nothing like that, I just..." Luna twisted her rings around her fingers a moment, and fixed Prompto with an intent look. "Might I ask you a question, Prompto?" 

Prompto thought that anyone who looked at him like that could get anything she wanted from him anytime. It was not that Luna was beautiful, even though she was. It was that there was something about her that was raw and sad beneath her austerity, something that spoke of silence and suffering, and of resignation. She didn't need protecting--he had no doubt she was made of sterner stuff than the rest of them put together, dogs included. But he wanted to protect her anyway, and he wasn't sure if his heart had just been stolen or broken. He understood now the things Noct had tried to say when talking about Luna, but it wasn't a thing that could be said, only felt. It was not romantic; but it was the closest Prompto had ever come to religion. He wanted to say something flippant, instead all he could do was nod. 

"I--" Luna began, and then she tucked her skirt up beneath her and sat down next to him on the hood, her hands around her knees. "Perhaps it is not really a question, as such. If I say something foolish, I must ask you to forgive me. I'm not... this is new to me." 

"Hey," Prompto said, in a rickety attempt at casual chivalry, "I've never been dead before today, either. It's a whole new world we're all living in. Shoot." 

She laughed, and there was a real woman there, one who had been hidden beneath the Oracle's glamor and grace. "I was for a decade! You would think I might have learned something." She became very grave. "But before we travel further together, I want you to know that I--" She shook her head, as though she didn't like the way she was coming up alongside her topic. "The four of you... and you and Noct particularly... you are more than friends. I know." 

Prompto felt all the blood drain out of his face and leave him cold, felt it weigh down his stomach and sink it right to the ground. With anyone but Luna, he might have tried some offhand comment about brotherhood and camaraderie. But between her level eyes and tense hands there was no room to maneuver. They both knew exactly what she meant. 

"I must apologize," Luna continued. "I've barely known you three hours, and it is a very private thing. But I wanted to make it plain that I know where I stand. You have been by his side for years; I have not so much as shared a view with him since we were children." She smiled tightly. "With one disastrous exception. But I would have you know I do not come with him on this journey as a bride. I only wished for the chance to know him as you know him, and also to know you as he does. As friends and companions. To have the chance to be by his side, as you have." She pressed her lips into a thin line. "And I hope that by doing so I have not made things more uncomfortable for all of us. I realize now that it was a very selfish wish." 

"You're allowed to have selfish wishes," Prompto said, and without meaning to he had put his hand over hers. "Luna. It's okay to do things because you want to do them. To come with us because you want to come with us." 

Luna sighed. "I'm afraid it's not something I'm familiar with." 

"Well, I am," Prompto said. "Because when I started on the trip--the trip all those years ago--everybody said I shouldn't be going. And even if they didn't say it, like Gladio and Iggy, they sure as hell thought it. And you know, they were right. I shouldn't have been there. I didn't know how to fight, I didn't know anything. I could have gotten myself or any of us killed and it's some kind of miracle I didn't. Because I was faking it the whole way. And there was a whole lotta trouble and hurt down that road, but I'm not sorry I went down it. Do you know why?" 

Luna shook her head, and Prompto's fingers tightened around hers. 

" _Because Noct wanted me to be there_ ," Prompto said, and watched the impact of understanding settle on her face. "And it wasn't just obedience, either. I wanted to be there with him too. Even if it was dangerous. Even if it was a bad idea. Even if it was selfish. Just like he wants you with him now, and so do we. Like you want to be with him, and with us. Maybe they're selfish wishes. But it's all the same wish, Luna. We all want to be together, with each other, and with him." 

Luna blinked very hard at him, and then at the ground. "Maybe I can learn how to be selfish. To do something because... I want it. But I fear my presence may be a strain." 

"Sure, it might be a little weird at first," Prompto admitted, and then leaned towards her in confidence. "But to be honest? It was weird before. At the beginning of the first trip. No lie. It was wonkier than a three-decker elbow sandwich and I thought someone was gonna murder someone else before it was done. And even when Noct came back after ten years it took us a while before we could even look each other in the eye. I think we're still figuring that out now, to be honest. But we got it sorted out before, and we found our balance. We will again. You will, too. And you'll look back and you'll forget it ever felt strange or awkward. I promise." 

Luna brushed her fingers across her face, and the smile she gave Prompto was not the serene mask of the oracle, or the strained sacrifice of the martyred saint. It was just hers, and it was sweet and a little bit mischievous. "You're quite the philosopher, Prompto Argentum." 

"No," he said with a laugh, and held out his wrist to her. "I'm just an Imperial MT who lucked out by finding a lost puppy and a lonely prince." He ran a fingertip across his bar code as she stared at it in surprise. "And the fact that I still have this, even here... tells me that I'm not ashamed to be who I am." 

Luna folded both her hands over Prompto's tattoo, and to his complete surprise, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Nor should you be. He's someone I hope very much will be my friend." 

Prompto was stunned for a second, but then he burst into a grin. "Oh, sure. But just so you know, there's rules for that." 

Luna was a bit taken aback. "Rules?" 

"Yep." Prompto reversed his grip on his camera, put an arm around her shoulder, and tilted the lens at them both. "Friends have to get selfies together." 

The second that Prompto hit the shutter button there was a tremendous crash from the undergrowth. Gladio came tearing out of the woods at a flat run, sword drawn, arm waving. "Everybody! Get back in the car! There's a-- _guraphhghkk_ \--" 

"What on Eos is a _Gurapaughk_?" Ignis wanted to know, mustard knife still in hand. But what it actually was was Gladio clotheslining himself on Noct's halfway-up hammock, and sending them both to the ground in a flailing sprawl of legs and hammock strapping.

"The hell are you _doing_?" Gladio shouted at his king. 

"Trying to hang up a hammock," Noctis shot right back, thwacking Gladio in the ass with the hammock hook. There were twigs in his hair. "I didn't know this was the cross-country track. Oh wait, it isn't, because _nothing's been discovered yet_." 

"One thing has," Gladio said, in some urgency. "Now get in the goddamn car, all of you, before it--" 

Something in the forest roared. It was no mere growl, as a bear or coeurl might make. It was instead a deafening noise produced by something with lungs the size of a modest city apartment, and the trees swayed and crunched as it drew nearer to the road. And to them.

"Aha," Ignis said, while flinging everything back in the cooler. " _That's_ a Gurapaughk." 

" _Prompto start the car_ ," Noct shouted, sprinting towards them with a howling dog under each arm. Prompto handed his camera to Luna and then unceremoniously tossed them both in the passenger seat before vaulting over the hood to get to the driver's side. 

" _KEYS_ ," Prompto yelled, and Ignis threw them, his aim unerring. Prompto snatched them out of the air just as Noct landed in the back seat with the dogs, who were barking their heads off with excitement. 

"C'mon C'mon," Prompto said, revving the engine as Gladio heaved the cooler in on top of Noct and then threw Ignis in after it, falling into the back seat himself as something huge and brilliantly green poked its fanged snout in the ruins of their picnic. 

"We're in, Prompto, hit it!" Gladio said, just as Noct said "No wait--" but a blast of searing flame from the monster's mouth was the deciding factor, and Prompto put both feet on the gas. The Regalia shot off down the road like a jet-propelled roller skate through an empty cathedral, and the dragon snorted its annoyance at the puff of exhaust it left behind. 

"That thing ate. my. hammock," Noct said, infuriated, as he tried to sort out where his own ass was in the backseat. "I'd just figured out how it worked!" 

"We're not goin' back for it now," Gladio said, roughly trying to get Ignis upright again. "Everybody okay? Luna? Dogs?" 

"I'm fine," Luna said, only a little winded. Umbra started licking mustard off the front of Gladio's jacket. 

"Fuck," Noct said, flopping back in the seat, and then wincing. "Sorry, Luna. It's not--" 

"My ears are not going to fall off if you swear," Luna said, leaning back in the seat to pull Umbra off of Gladio. "Honestly! And I do believe I was the one who had to tell you what that word _meant_." 

"Did you really?" Prompto asked, pushing the speedometer to new extremes. "Ha!" 

"I did. He'd overheard one of the guards--" 

"Luna," Noct pleaded, pained. 

"--And he thought it was some kind of Tenebrae greeting--" 

" _Luna_ ," Noct continued. "Come on, I was like eight--"

"So he said it to me at breakfast the next morning and--" 

Noct put his face in his hands. "Luna, please." 

"It was right in front of my mother and King Regis--" Luna couldn't finish her story because everyone except Noct was howling with laughter. Prompto had tears streaming down his face, and no small difficulty keeping the car on the road.

"I'm your king," Noct shouted over them, and the sound of the wind roaring across the Regalia's open top, "and when we get home I'm having you all executed." 

"Oh well," Gladio said, beating out some dragon-charred hammock cinders that had landed on his sleeve. "Won't be the first time. King." 

"I believe you asked for us to behave as usual, Lady Luna?" Ignis wiped a smear of mustard off his glasses. "I'm so terribly sorry. You just got it." 

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gurapaughk is actually quite tame. It gets on brilliantly with Ravus.


	2. Lineage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fishing, family secrets....and foreshadowing.

The thought of sunset filled them all with a certain anxiety, one born from too much time spent counting dwindling hours of daylight, and too many nights without a morning. Ignis wisely pointed out that for their first night out they should set up camp early, the better to prepare for any unexpected issues. He did not mention dragons, though he gave Gladio a pointed look from the driver's side mirror and that was enough. 

As if to make up for failing to let sleeping dragons lie, Gladio found them a promising site not far from the road: a little rocky plateau in a clutch of boulders backed onto a low waterfall. The forest had thickened rather than thinning as they drove, and the spot was hung over with pine boughs. It was cozy and quiet, and Noct eyed the pool beneath the falls with an eager gleam in his eye. 

"Reminds me of the Myrlwood," Prompto said, kicking a clear spot in the carpet of pine needles for Gladio to build a campfire. "That waterfall by the Queen's tomb? I loved that place. I mean, apart from the fact that it was infested with terrifying wriggly bug-monsters." 

"And how it rained ninety percent of the time." Noct had found his fishing equipment in the trunk, and now was busily reassembling his rod. "Let's hope it doesn't do that here. Traveling in the rain sucks." 

"On the contrary," Ignis said, unfolding the camp table with a practiced twist of his wrists, "If it rains, we can relax in the tent until it clears up. There's no schedule anymore, Noct." 

Noct looked at him in amazement. "You mean..." 

"He means we're sleeping in tomorrow," Gladio said, throwing the tent on the ground and stretching luxuriously. "And we can figure out what we want to do over breakfast. This'd be a good base if we want to do some exploration on foot, by the way." 

"I think I'm going to like this trip a whole lot more than the last one," Prompto said, with a deep breath of the fresh air. 

"If it ends without anyone getting thrown off a train or sucked through a crystal I think we'll do all right." Noct poked in his tacklebox. "Okay, I know it's been a decade but I thought I had some more crankbaits in here." 

"What was the Vesperpool like?" Luna asked, still peering over Noct's shoulders at the lures. "I never traveled that far, though I heard it is quite beautiful." 

"Good fishing," Noct said. "Rained a lot. Creepy ruins." 

"I have pictures!" Prompto pulled out a stack of photographs from his jacket and thumbed through them. "Heh. They're all out of order. Some idiot had to pick one to go die with." 

"Some other idiot carried them with him all this time," Noct said, with a wry smile, and their eyes met for a warm moment. 

"Here, Luna." Prompto pulled over the cooler so they could both sit down by Noct. "Let's see. Here we go. That's the first day. Gladio wasn't with us." 

"Where was he?" 

"Dancing on a pole in Lestallum," Noct said, and busied himself sorting out his sinkers while Gladio gave him a dirty look. 

"Oh de--I see," Luna said, catching Gladio's expression and suspecting that she'd better not ask for clarification. She turned her attention to the pictures instead. "Who's this, Prompto?" 

"Oh, that's Aranea, a mercenary. She helped us out in the dungeon there--" 

"Why are there little hearts drawn around her face?" Luna asked. 

Prompto hurriedly shuffled through his snapshots. "Oh! Ah. No reason. Anyway! Big Fish! He's Noct. I mean, Noct caught it. Ledge of the Lurk--the Liege of the Lake." 

"There are hearts around it, too." 

"Noct drew those." 

"Hey that was a great fish, all right? Hearts are the least it deserved." 

"Lookit 'em." Gladio said in an undertone, stepping over to Ignis with a stack of branches on one shoulder. "Like a buncha kids." 

"I'm looking," Ignis said, though he was doing so from the corner of his eye while laying out his knives. "I haven't seen that smile on Noct's face in a very long time. It does the heart good, doesn't it." 

"It hurts," Gladio admitted. "In a good way. But just... realizing how broken we've been. I guess we got used to it." 

Ignis tilted his favorite knife to the slanting sunlight, watching it paint a gold streak along the side of the sharpened steel. "...I suppose we did, at that." 

Gladio shook himself. "Anyway. I'll get the fire going once the tent's up. What's for dinner?" 

"Haven't the foggiest," Ignis said. "We're fine on spices and grains, and I spied some wild greens over by the pool's edge, but I think tomorrow we should see what else we can forage. If Noct's willing to catch us something for dinner, though, I'll cook it." He raised his voice for the last part, and Noct stopped arguing with Prompto about the correct order of the pictures long enough to reply.

"I heard that. You sure you're not gonna backseat-fish the whole time? Because that's how you wind up with a catfish in your sleeping bag." 

Luna put a hand to her mouth. "You didn't. _Noctis._ " 

"He did," Prompto said, sorting the snapshots into the order he preferred, no matter what Noct said about it. "Well, I think it was a bluegill?" 

"And it was _my_ sleeping bag." Gladio set the record straight. 

"And you deserved it," Noct said, and stood up to whip his fishing rod through the air a few times. He didn't need to, but it made a nice sound. 

"What did he do?" Luna asked, looking from Prompto to Noct in an attempt to figure out which one was going to tell her first. 

"Ah, he said some dumb thing," Noct muttered. "I don't rememb--" 

"Said a fish Noct caught was smaller than Noct's di--" 

" _Prompto_ ," Ignis, Gladio, and Noct said at the same time, and Luna bit her lips to hold back a giggle. 

"Look," Prompto said, spreading his hands. "Are we really going to try this again? Because you know what happened with Iris. We spent three days playing it straight and then Ignis called someone a chocobo fucker--" 

"Wanker," Ignis said. 

"Well, whatever you said--" 

"I'm not correcting you," Ignis said, and his glasses flashed. "I'm calling you one. And unless you want to be called worse, I suggest you get over here and help Gladio with the tent. Noct, what's on the menu?" 

"Trout," Noct said, spitting on his line to secure the knot. "I hope. I'll try the crystal whiskers and--" 

Luna coughed gently into her hand. "Chocolate," she said. 

Noct hesitated. "Chocolate?" 

Luna made a little nod, and Noct reached back into his tackle box with a sigh. " _Chocolate_ whiskers. Because it's--" 

"Late afternoon," Luna said along with him, and Prompto looked at them both in surprise. 

"You know how to fish, Luna?" 

She laughed, smoothing her skirt over her knees. "Of course. Who do you think taught him?" 

"It was something I could do, in Tenebrae," Noct said, as he switched his lures. "When I was recovering. It got me out of the castle and wasn't too strenuous. My nurse just parked my chair by the side of the castle pond and gave me a rod. Just a little thing, bobber and sinker. Luna's idea." 

Luna smiled sadly. "Ravus' idea, actually. We spent a lot of time by that pond as children. But I haven't done any fishing myself since I was a girl, and Noct by now has no doubt surpassed my meager skills. So if I'm wrong about the lures, Noct, you must forgive me." 

Noct winked at her, and threw out his first cast. 

"You are both a surprise and a delight, Lunafreya," Ignis said, crossing the campsite to reach her. "And I look forward to getting to know you better. But right now I fear I need the eggs out of the cooler, and you're sitting on it." 

 

An hour later Noct had six big gleaming trout to show for his work, though they were a type he had never seen before, with a deep blue flash and brown speckles. But they looked like trout and smelled like them, and Ignis assured them all that they would taste like them too. Noct put down his rod with a sigh, remembering how it used to appear and disappear at his command. "No Armiger, and no warping. It'll take getting used to. I'm going to have to learn to fight all over again." 

"As they say in Lestallum, Noct: _Cry me a river_." Ignis had picked up the pepper instead of the salt three times in a row because their labels were the same color, and had finally given up and closed his eyes while making the batter for the fish. 

"No warping's fine with me," Gladio said, putting down a fresh stack of firewood for the night. "Shit always made me barf." 

"So like the Glaive, you also used the powers of the Crown?" Luna, for all her sheltered upbringing, had a deft hand with a knife and was making short work of filleting Noct's trout. Umbra and Pryna were each keeping one sleepy eye on her, their feet to the warmth of the campfire, bellies upturned for Prompto's exceptionally nice scratches. 

"Not as such, my lady," Ignis said, his prep process going much faster now that he'd started to do it blind. "Though Noct could take us with him when traveling in a focused line, and he has at critical moments in battle loaned us his weapons, we could not do it on our own." 

"Nyx and the others made so much use of it during the attack on Insomnia," Luna said, flicking a trout head into the heap with the rest of the offal. "I had thought only the King's blessing was all that was required." 

"If that was the case, I'd've been zipping around for like years already," Prompto said with a laugh. "But yeah, we tried once? Noct said something like _bestow this knight whatever whatever_ and I gave it my best shot? Nada. I didn't even glow." 

"The ability to warp on one's own requires both the blessing of the King and the blood of House Caelum," Ignis said, deeming salad-making a simple enough task that he could do it with open eyes. "Not much, but a sufficient amount. It's possible Gladio could do it--as House Amicitia does have some relation to House Caelum--if it didn't turn him green." 

Luna frowned. "So that means..." She trailed off; a life spent as the Oracle had made her well-versed in decorum, and she felt the direction of the conversation might be indelicate. But either her insistence that they not treat her with any deference or her unflinching manner of gutting trout had taken the starch out of them, and Ignis picked up her unspoken conclusion. 

"You are correct," he said. "Noct and Nyx Ulric--as well as many others in the Glaive who used warping--are distant cousins. Very distant, but still. It's fitting that you should have mentioned the Myrlwood, Prompto. The Rogue-Queen of Lucis has her tomb there, and it was all her doing." 

"Oooh!" Prompto scooted in closer, in spite of the glistening pile of trout parts accumulating near his boot. "I know that tone. Storytime! Lay it on, Ig." 

Ignis looked put-upon, which meant he was being asked to do something he actually really wanted to do but felt he should protest anyway. "Very well. Though I feel that sort of thing is better after dinner, I suppose it is a short tale." 

"Under three hours, then," Gladio said, settling contentedly back in his chair.

Ignis spun a cast-iron skillet in his hand as though it was made of paper, and began. "When Stella Lucis Caelum ascended to the throne of Lucis four hundred years ago, it was at the end of a long power struggle in the royal line, and she was barely nineteen years of age. For several generations House Caelum had been overzealous in guarding their bloodline, striving to maintain what they felt to be the purity of the name, and protecting the Astrals' gifts." 

"Inbred as hell," Gladio put in. 

Ignis sniffed at this blunt interruption. "Stella was a rarity, a robust child with no sign of the genetic ailments that had become commonplace in her family. It was rumored that her mother, who was the king's first cousin and as fully of the line as he, had bypassed her husband's bed entirely when conceiving her heir. And in truth the previous king was so poor in health that the idea of him being able to father a child strained credulity. He died before his daughter was three years old." 

Noct shook his head as he closed his tacklebox. "Poor kid." 

"At any rate," Ignis said, flinging salt over the fillets Luna passed to him, "when she took the Crown after her mother's assassination, Stella was ruthless in stamping out the dissent and intrigue that plagued the Citadel. She did not bring it to light; rather, she simply was better at it than anyone else. She took to the shadows, and made them hers. Within two years she had eliminated all but the most loyal of her knights and advisors, arranged a political marriage to a nobleman of Accordo whom she did not love, and righted the entire council of Lucis, which many at the time assumed to be a hopelessly sinking ship. With that accomplished, she set out to repair the weaknesses inherent in her line, and she took a page from her mother's book to do so." 

Prompto's eyes went wide. "You mean she slept with--" 

"Don't be crude, Prompto," Ignis said. "This isn't a ten-gil novel. What her personal feelings were on the matter we must leave to conjecture, for she was by nature intensely private, and has left us no personal recollections. She hand-picked six consorts from her closest circle, by merit of their genetics rather than any personal attraction, I suspect, and had children by all of them. Anyone who dared question her morals or motives found themselves exiled, or worse. From her children she chose an heir based on his aptitude and not his random order of birth, and on his ascension, the rest of the brood very wisely took their inheritance and scattered. Things were not so stable in Insomnia then that they might not find a knife in the dark waiting for them one night. It's suspected that most of them settled in what would become Galahd, though some went to Tenebrae or Accordo, and possibly even Niflheim."

"And that," Noct concluded, "is why so many people in Galahd can use the powers of the Crown." 

"And why the Empire targeted it, I bet," Gladio said, spreading out the coals to give Ignis a place for the skillet. 

"Precisely," Ignis said, tossing a lump of butter in the pan. "And, no doubt, why the twelve permitted Nyx to use the Ring as you have told us, Luna--though at great cost, as I'm sure they would hardly even consider his greatly-diluted blood to be of any worth by now. But as long as Galahd persisted and the King's strength endured, House Caelum would have an army at the ready anytime. The Empire knew this, and eliminated it." 

"Because one queen had the sense not to hitch all her chocobos to one wagon." Gladio grinned. "Gotta say, would have loved to meet her." 

"That is _so badass_ ," Prompto said, eyes wide. "She was kinda already my fave? But damn." 

"I begin to see why this was never mentioned in any of the histories of Lucis I read as a child," Luna said, wiping her hands on a towel. "Pity, as it's far more interesting." 

"History always leaves out the good parts," Noct said. "Wonder what they'll say about us?" 

Gladio held up his hands in a frame. "King Noctis Lucis Caelum: he slept all the goddamn time." 

Noct picked up one of the fish heads and flicked it in Gladio's direction. "Gladiolus Amicitia: he was a humongous pain in the king's ass." 

"And a good thing somebody was," Gladio said, and whipped the fish head right back at Noct, who, on instinct, held up a hand to deflect it. There was a crackling sound, as of fracturing ice, and the fish head smacked into a curved shield of crystal floating five inches from Noct's hand. It burst into nothingness as soon as he noticed it, too startled to maintain it.

"What the hell was that?!" Prompto said, so surprised that he stood up. "You've never done that before!" 

"King Regis made use of such barriers when I fled Insomnia," Luna said, her face puzzled. "Though they did not look quite the same, and--" 

"Shiva said I no longer had the power of Kings," Noct said, and his face clenched in concentration as he tried to do it again. 

"The New Wall was never the doing of the line of Kings," Ignis said, watching a thin layer of magic, no more than frost, spread around Noct's hand. "Though they used the Ring to command it into being. It was the Crystal." 

"And we've _got_ a Crystal," Prompto said, excited. "You still have magic, Noct!" 

"Yeah," Noct said, as the tiny barrier evaporated, and he fell onto his back with a gasp. "Really _hard_ magic. I always sucked at making a Paling." 

"You must not expect so much of yourself so quickly," Luna said, and reached out to stroke back Noct's hair. The effort of the magic had made him break into a sweat. "Though I suspect there are further mysteries of this nature for us to uncover." 

"Dunno about you guys, but the main mystery I want to uncover is how good this fish tastes." Gladio shook the pan over the coals as Ignis dropped battered fillets into it, filling the air with a sizzling sound and a mouthwatering aroma. "You hungry, Luna?" 

"Yes," she admitted, a little shyly, fingers still in Noct's hair. "I'm starving, actually." 

"Then the first one out is for you," Ignis said. "Noct, if you're done being overwhelmed by the tremendous strain of making a soap-bubble, do be so good as to get the plates." 

"Ignis Scientia," Noct said, sweeping his hand through the air like he was planning a marquee--or an epitaph. "He was an even _bigger_ pain in the King's ass." 

"And what about Prompto?" Prompto asked, getting up to get the plates, because Noct clearly wasn't (and with Luna playing with his hair, Prompto couldn't blame him). "What do they say about him?" 

Gladio looked deliberately puzzled. "Prompto...Prompto... nope, not ringing a bell." 

"Yes, I thought there were just two knights?" Ignis deftly flipped the fish over. "I don't recall another one?" 

Noct scratched his nose thoughtfully. "There was a dog, wasn't there? Maybe he was the dog. Are you guys thinking of the dog?" 

"Oh my god," Prompto said, even as he handed the stack of plates to Ignis, "I hate you guys." 

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably pretty obvious by now that I've got a fave King of the Old Wall. ^_^; I used the Star of the Rogue a lot in my playthrough, actually, until Noct built up his defense stats enough that he could get in close for my preferred style of fighting: hitting things very hard over and over again until they fall down. I'm my irl party's Tank; I never claimed to be a sophisticated tactician.


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scattered dream that's like a far-off memory.

He dreamed of Lucis. At least, when he was sleeping, he thought it was a dream. When he woke, in the pale light of a springtime morning before dawn, he wasn't so certain. On closer inspection there was none of the tell-tale surrealism that comes of looking at a dream in broad daylight; a dream that on waking feels so real but by noon you've remembered the ludicrous interjections of your subconscious. Like why was your eighth grade math teacher there, and why was she wearing a light-up sombrero while directing a handbell choir of moogles? It made perfect sense at the time. 

Noct stared up at the dim ceiling of the tent and tried to find those things, little pins to puncture the all-too real recollection of his dream, and there were none. When that failed him he tried to forget the whole thing and go back to sleep, but something had happened to him in his decade among the Astrals, and sleep would not come. The constant exhaustion that had so dogged his younger days--even before the extra burden of kingly power drained his strength by the hour--had left him. He was comfortable and warm, and Luna's hand lay over his heart and Prompto's head was on his shoulder, and if not for the dream he would have been content to lie there between them until everyone else was awake. But the restlessness would not subside, and eventually he sat up. 

Pryna was drowsing on the blanket beside Luna, her nose tucked neatly into her tail. Umbra was unaccounted for. On the other side of the tent Ignis was still asleep, curled up against Prompto's back like a man used to being there. It made Noct smile, even as he wondered about it. They had talked very little about the days between Noct's departure and his return, saving their few reminisces for the time they had all spent together. Noct hoped they had not spent too much time alone. He remembered what Talcott had said, and it made his heart ache. Maybe over breakfast, he would ask them. (He wouldn't, he knew. But the thought of having the time to talk about it took the edge off his guilt.) 

Gladio's sleeping bag was empty, and Noct, glad for the excuse, got up to see where he had gone. Luna and Prompto fell against each other in the space Noct left behind; a comfortable familiarity that would take them both much longer in waking hours. Noct stole a long, grateful look at their sleeping faces before he slipped out of the tent. 

"Well well well. Look who's up before the sun." Gladio snapped a branch across his knee before feeding it to the small blaze he'd coaxed up in the fire ring. Umbra, having learned that campfires meant both warm tummies and good snacks, was sitting patiently under Gladio's chair in hopes of either. "You sure your name is Noct?" 

"I'm not sure about anything," Noctis admitted, and Gladio agreed with a snort of laughter. 

"You and me both, kid." Gladio raked last night's coals up around the new fuel, and the fire leapt eagerly around it. "Well. Maybe two things: It's a damn nice morning, and you want some of that coffee." 

"Yes," Noct said, dragging his chair closer to the fire. After the warm closeness of the tent, there was a bright chill in the morning. "And yes. Though if you're the one that made the coffee, I'll just have a small slice, thanks." 

Gladio chuckled. "Eh, good black coffee'll put hair on your chest. Or possibly back on your face. I didn't read the small print. Either way it's an improvement." 

"Says you." 

Noct had never been much for coffee, much less black, preferring a cup of tea (which Ignis always complained had contained more milk and sugar than anything). But in the fresh air, with the memory of his dream still heavy on him, it sounded good. He found his tin cup sitting by the camp stove, and filled it up from the coffee pot. The bent rim sat against his lip like an old friend, and Gladio's infamous brew seemed less toxic than he recalled, the bitterness not unpleasant. Maybe his tastes had changed, he thought. Noct gave the idea of beans a momentary consideration, and shuddered in horror at the thought of their squishy middles and weird poppy skins. If his tastes had changed, they hadn't changed that much. 

"You been awake a while?" Noct asked, adding what was--for him--a downright frugal amount of sugar to his cup before returning to his chair. 

"Bout half an hour, I guess." Gladio looked up at the lightening sky. Somewhere beyond the trees the sun had risen, and it spread a golden glow over the top of the waterfall. The forest was raucous with a dawn chorus of birds both familiar and unfamiliar, and the grey-green shadows of the trees were drawing back to reveal branches and leaves. "Couldn't sleep anymore. Too many dreams." 

"Lucis," Noct said, without having to ask. "Me, too." 

Gladio didn't say anything for a long while, feeding twigs to the fire until it could bear the addition of something larger, shrugging his Glaive jacket off his shoulders when the heat became substantial. Noct drank his coffee. When they finally said something, it was at the same time. 

"Iris was--" 

"About Iris--" 

They stopped, looked at each other, and Noct laughed gently into his coffee. "You first." 

Gladio's hands, with nothing to do for the moment, folded around each other as though they were unfamiliar with the idea of being idle. There were scars across his fingers and knuckles that Noct did not remember. "They want to put her in charge," he said, to the fire. "Talcott and the others. And the refugees from Insomnia. She's the last vestige of anything like the old royal house, and everyone already knows her name and her reputation. They say she should be a new queen." He looked up at Noct's face as though expecting surprise there, but there was none. "But she said--" 

" _Insomnia already has a king_ ," Noct finished for him. It was not an assertion of his authority over a life he had left behind; he was directly quoting what Iris had told Talcott on some other spring morning in some other world, a conversation that he and Gladio had somehow both heard. " _And as long as he is on the throne, there won't be another._ " 

Gladio shook his head slowly. "You saw it too, then." 

Noct took a long drink of his coffee before he nodded. "I woke up a little after, though. I didn't remember what else she said." 

Gladio's sigh was heavy. "You didn't miss much. They kept at her until she agreed to be Regent, but nothing else. Just as well, though. Friggin' idiots need someone with sense in charge, and she's got it." Belatedly, he remembered the fire, and stood up to get an armful of branches from the firewood pile he'd made the night before. "She's scared, though. Not sure if she can do it. I told her she'd damn well better or she'd answer to me." He grinned at Noct through the rising smoke. "And that she better not ruin your reputation." 

"My reputation was never great to begin with. Remember when the papers called me 'Prince Sulky' for a whole year?" Noct looked down at his cup, surprised he'd somehow drunk the whole thing. "...do you think she heard you?" 

Gladio shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe she'll dream about us, the way we dream about people there. I'll ask her someday, when we're all on the same farplane together." Gladio sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his belly, more relaxed now that they'd spoken of the dream. "She'll be fine. She's an Amicitia. And between you and me, she always did better on her own than when she had to be my little sister." His eyes were bright as he stared into the fire. "Probably be glad to be out of my shadow, though she'll never say that for fear of dishonoring my memory or whatever." 

"She's five years older now than I was when I left home." Noct got up and poured another half-cup of coffee for himself, ignoring Gladio's shocked face at the refill. "And she's had a harder decade than I ever did. Daemon-Slayer. Last survivor of the council houses. She might as well be a queen. She's good enough for it." 

"Only one way Iris ever dreamed of bein' queen," Gladio said, and pretended his hard blink was only a ribald wink in Noct's direction. "And that way's either dead or already taken, depending on who you ask." 

"Yeah, he is." Noct watched a trout break the surface of the nearby pool, leaping under the falls as it skimmed early-morning insects off the top of the water. "And either way, he's going fishing." 

"I wouldn't have minded, you know," Gladio said, as Noct went to get his gear. "I always knew it couldn't happen, but--" He frowned, furrowing his brow with the effort of having to hold something back. "...It would have been all right with me, Noct." 

Noct put his hand on Gladio's shoulder, his fingers firm and reassuring even as he kept his voice careless. "Really? I figured you woulda kicked my ass." 

"Oh sure," Gladio said, scrubbing his fist across his face. "But just for formality's sake. Now go catch that fish, it's been bugging me all morning." 

Noct was four casts in and Gladio was making another pot of coffee before either of them said anything again, more comfortable to be quiet in each others' company than they had been since before the fall of Insomnia. 

"If you see her again," Noct said, tugging his lure slowly over the water in the hopes of attracting the attention of the monster trout, "...tell her she has my vote." 

"When you see her again," Gladio said, without a shadow of doubt in his voice, "you can tell her yourself. She'd like it better from you. And she never listened to me anyway." 

"Why would anyone listen to you?" Ignis asked, stepping out of the tent and wincing at the bright light. "Unless, of course, they enjoyed collecting bad advice from purely a folkloric standpoint." 

"Good morning to you too, Iggy." Gladio held out the coffee. "Want some?" 

"Coffee, yes. Bad advice, no thank you, I can provide my own." Ignis slid his glasses up on his nose and groped for the coffee Gladio offered him, still blinking hard. The sunlight was harder for him to adapt to than for any of the others, and he squinted down into his cup a long moment to assess its contents. "How much coffee did you use to make this? It's practically _viscous_." He tossed it back in one shot and shuddered. "Ungh. Glorious. Pour me another." 

"Sleep all right, Specky?" Noct asked innocently, throwing out another cast. 

Ignis gave him a narrow look. _Specky_ , in general, was an endearment he only allowed (and Noct only offered) if Ignis had been nearly eviscerated in combat. Or if Noct was up to something. Ignis knew which it was. "How could I? Between Prompto thrashing all over the place like a loose pinball and Gladio snoring to wake the Astrals, not to mention the dog farts, I hardly closed my eyes twice. I certainly didn't have any dreams." Ignis coolly returned the glance Gladio and Noct gave him, as though daring them to challenge his statement. "Now, thanks to Gladio's excellent cup of roofing tar, I'm not likely to sleep again for a week, so I might as well see to breakfast." Subject both raised and dismissed in the same breath, Ignis went over to the stove to see about porridge. 

"Ahem." There was an obvious rattle of the tent flap, and Prompto only stuck his head out of it once he was good and sure he had everyone's attention. "Ignis. Aren't you going to--"

"Oh, right," Ignis said, in a bored tone, as he measured out water into the pot. "I don't suppose either of you would mind loaning a bit of your wardrobes out to Lady Lunafreya? T'would seem her selection of travel garments did not fully take into account the rough nature of our journey. Running from dragons and whatnot." 

"Of course not," Noct said, at once. 

"That was a total accident, I'm telling you--" Gladio began, not for the first time. 

"Good," Ignis said, and probably would have said no matter the response he got. "Especially since we already raided your knapsacks for anything fit to wear, and there wasn't much." He scattered a heavy pinch of salt into the pot, and raised his voice. "She's in compliance, Prompto, you can let her out now." 

"You're sure you don't mind?" Luna asked, her voice muffled as Prompto clambered out of the front flap, looking pleased with himself. 

"Not sure what I have that would even fit you," Gladio said, "but you're welcome to it." 

"Luna, why would we mi--" 

Luna stepped out of the tent, and Noct stopped talking. Somehow out of a hodgepodge of their leftovers she had put together something that was both practical and yet very smart--probably Ignis' doing. It was certainly Ignis' old striped shirt she was wearing, knotted up over one of Noct's t-shirts. The pants and boots were Prompto's spares, and Gladio's inexplicable thigh-pouch made more sense on her than it ever did on him. (Noct, to this day, still had no idea what Gladio had even kept in there.) She had her hair up in a simple ponytail and she looked more happy and comfortable than Noct had ever seen her. But then, he had never seen her in anything more casual than a sterile snow-white dress, even when they were little. 

 

 _How can you climb trees in that?_ He'd asked her once, when he had not yet been in Tenebrae long. 

_Oracles aren't supposed to climb trees_ , she'd answered, and something in her voice made it clear she'd learned that the hard way. 

_That's stupid. Everyone should climb trees. When I'm better_ , Noct promised her, _We'll find the biggest one we can and climb it together._

She had smiled gently, her hands folded carefully in her lap. _I'd like that very much, Prince Noctis._

 

Noct, in realizing that he had never gotten to keep his promise, failed to realize that something had taken his lure, and his line was paying out so fast it was about to ignite on the spool. 

"Noct!" Luna's voice startled him out of his memory. "What are you doing? _Set the hook_!" 

His motion was pure reflex, too hard and too late. Whatever he had snagged lost the lure with a humiliating splash, and the reel spun uselessly in his hand. The line looped lazy circles across the water: several dozen yards' worth of failure. "Ah-- _dammit_." 

Ignis tsked. "I hadn't considered that Luna in Prompto's secondhand trousers would be some sort of distraction hazard. I suppose we'll just have to cover Noct with a tarp until he learns it's rude to stare." 

"Oh, let's not be hasty," Gladio said, smiling. "There's all kinds of reasons to cover Noct with a tarp. Staring's just one." 

"Seriously, Noct." Prompto snapped his fingers in front of Noct's face, although Noct had not been staring into space for almost a minute now. "I mean, sure, she looks better in them than I ever did--" 

"I couldn't say," Noct said in a strangled undertone, winding up his slack line with a hasty desperation. 

Prompto's eyebrows went up precipitously high as he leaned in close over Noct's shoulder. "Ohoh. I get it. Your fiancé, my clothes--izzat giving you a problem there, buddy?" 

"I'm going to give _you_ a problem," Noct growled. "It's called _drowning_." 

"Better than a problem called inappropriate bon--" 

"At any rate," Ignis said, loud enough to startle some of the nearby birds. "I'm glad you are more comfortable, Lady Luna. While your previous ensembles were fashionable, I suspect it is best not to wear a skirt and heels when any one of these imbeciles is liable to put us in mortal danger four times before breakfast. Which would be ready faster if I had some help--Prompto?" 

"Ah, be right there," Prompto said, and swatted Noct across the ass before trading places with Luna. He tried to get her to fist-bump him as they passed, but she had no idea what he was doing, and he wound up shadowboxing over to Ignis to cover for it. 

" _Idiot_ ," Noct breathed. _Stupid hot idiot giving Luna his stupid hot idiot clothes, now they both looked--_

"I _am_ sorry about the fish," Luna said, her borrowed boots crunching on the gravel bank as she came up beside him.

"Oh well. It bit once, it'll bite again." Noct focused on his fishing, not quite able to look at her. In their familiar old clothes she was somehow closer to him than she had ever been, even more than she had been asleep next to him, or sitting with him in the car. She was both real and within his reach. Not across the pages of a journal, or a faded face in his memory. Not on a pedestal and certainly not on the far side of the gulf between life and death. It was enough to make him dizzy. Or maybe that was the outfit. (Noct knew it was absolutely the outfit. This close she smelled like herself and also the mingling of everyone else's scent and it sent Noct's nerve-endings singing for reasons he didn't dare examine.) 

"I hope I don't look too awful?" Luna adjusted the knot of Ignis' shirt. "I've never had any sorts of clothes like these, so I don't--" 

"You don't look awful," Noct said, fervently. "Not at all." 

"O-oh," Luna said, in understanding. She turned her head to hide her smile. "I see. Then perhaps it's just as well I told Ignis I didn't need to borrow his bracers, too." 

And Noctis Lucis Caelum lost his second fish that morning. 

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luna is also wearing Prompto's lucky socks, because she'd never seen novelty socks before and thought they were adorable and wouldn't relent until he let her wear them.


	4. Vantage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold a mirror shoulder-high, when you're older look you in the eye

"Hey, I can see our house from here!" Prompto leaned out over the ledge and shielded his eyes from the sun's glare as he looked back over the distance they had traveled so far. "Looks the Citadel's backed right on to some ocean, unless there's some other big flat blueish thing in your backyard that I don't know about."

Noct made a face at Prompto from several dozen feet below, where a waterfall even taller than the one by their camp cast a wide curtain over the cliff face before plunging into a misty, rock-strewn pool. He had to shout to be heard over the thunder of water. "That's great, Prompto, but I'm trying to get an idea of where we're _going_. Not where we've been. What's the other way?" 

Prompto swiveled around in the other direction, his boots unnervingly close to the edge of the wet rocks, elbow hooked around the tree trunk he was using for support. _Wasn't he afraid of heights?_ Noct wondered, and then put the thought away with the other things that had changed while he was gone, and that he didn't feel ready to deal with. The pile was growing larger by the day. 

"Oh, the usual," Prompto called down, once he'd had a good look. "Couple of Coernix stations, a Wall-Market Supercenter, four Morrid's Coffees within two blocks of each other, and a strip mall with a noodle shop, tanning, and nail salon all in one. Oh, and a Spira Bank ATM! Wonder if my card still works?" 

" _Prompto_." 

Prompto looked down at his king with a grin. "Sorry, man. It's trees. Trees on the top, trees on the bottom. A few more of those roads leading somewhere. Water way off in the south--ocean or big lake. Plains west. Mountains to the north and south of us. I'll take some pictures." 

"That's more helpful. It's something we can go back and show the others, anyway." Noct stretched his neck, trying to get rid of the crick he'd gotten in it watching Prompto tempting death up there on the ledge. "Come down, you're making me dizzy." 

"You just can't deal with such a nice view of my ass," Prompto said, but got his last photo and slithered down the tangle of tree roots to the rocks alongside the falls. He picked his way down them with the nimble speed of a green chocobo until he was standing next to Noct again, flushed with exertion. The breezy morning had turned into a warm afternoon during their expedition, and Prompto had tied his Crownsguard jacket around his waist. He dropped to his knee beside the pool and scooped up two handfuls of water over his face and hair to cool off. Noct couldn't help remembering that he used to be antsy about the biological content of anything less processed than tapwater. 

"What do you think?" Prompto asked, slinging water from his fingers as he stood up. "Want to keep on going? Don't know if we'll get a better vantage point anywhere else nearby." 

"I'm not sure yet," Noct admitted. In fact, the whole idea of going out to survey the area had been a stalling tactic on Noct's part--he would have gone alone except that Ignis wouldn't allow it. Shortly after breakfast, the impact of this new world and its possibilities had landed on Noct with the force of a falling Imperial troop carrier. That would have been more than enough, but he still hadn't even dealt with the fallout of his decade in the Astrals' realm. He wanted some time to think, to come to terms with where he was going, but even moreso, with where he had been. Instead, he was tromping through the woods with Prompto, and that only made it harder for him to think clearly. For a number of reasons. 

It had been a long time, but Prompto still knew that thoughtful look of Noct's, and knew it was best to let it be. He put one boot on the nearest boulder and heaved the knapsack Ignis had sent with them up beside it, looking for lunch. "Well, let's eat something while we wait. I'm starving." He passed over delicacies he would have found irresistible in days past: one of Ignis' scratch biscuits with ham and cheese, leftover breakfast pancakes folded into sandwiches with jam in the middle--and pulled out a bright green apple instead. "Want something?" he asked Noct, crunching into it with relish. 

"I'm good, thanks." Noct had a strange, uneasy feeling in his belly, but it wasn't hunger. 

"Whatevs." Prompto shrugged. "I missed apples, though," he said, leaning on his knee while he ate and watching the waterfall, the sky, the trees, and most of all the sun as it made its slow passage over them. "It's funny how you can miss the most boring-ass things when you can't have them." 

"You couldn't get apples?" Noct knew why before he even finished asking, but it was no good. The question, foolish as it was, was out of him. 

"They set up some farms in Lestallum," Prompto said, through another mouthful. "With grow lights and irrigation and stuff? But it was for potatoes, mostly. Anything easy to grow that would feed a lot of people. But a lot of other plants died off. Anything outside the city that needed sunlight, pretty much. Made finding dinner a whole new adventure." He laughed, and there was a bitter edge to it as he flung the apple core into the waterfall, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth. "Trust me, if I ever eat another fucking potato or catfish again it'll be too soon." 

So many years of hardship, summed up in so small a statement. Noctis wondered how Prompto could even manage to talk to him, to look him in the eye. How could he have _waited_ , how could he have been so glad to see Noct, how could he not be furious with him for everything he'd done--and not done? It turned Noct's stomach to think of it. "Some King of Light," Noct said, and it was only when Prompto looked up that he realized it had been loud enough to hear. 

"Ahhh," Prompto said, eyebrows drawing together in worry at the sight of Noct's face. "Sorry. I'm just bitching. I had it better than lots of--" Prompto let the sentence fall, understanding--too late--that it was no way to make Noct feel better. "Listen, it's not like you went on a cruise, right? It was hard for you, too. They knew that. I knew that. It's okay, Noct." 

"It's not," Noct said, tensely. It was something he should have admitted days ago, but he was only just now able to face it. It had not gotten easier while he delayed. "It's not okay. I know. You know. I just--" He opened and closed his fists, uselessly. No weapon would come to him at nothing but a push of his will, now. He had his sword at his hip, but it was in an ordinary scabbard. "I don't know what to do about it, yet." 

"You already did something about it," Prompto said, and his somber voice was almost lost in the rush of the waterfall. "You died for it." 

Noct closed his eyes, shook his head, and said nothing. There was, he thought, nothing he could say. Prompto stepped up close beside him, put his arms around Noct's shoulders, and held him until Noct's shaking had subsided. 

"Nobody ever blamed you," Prompto said, quietly. "Nobody, Noct." 

"I blame me," Noct said, and lifted his face to the sky, blinking hard. "I've got a lot to answer for. Everything that happened while I was gone. All those deaths. All that suffering." He fought to regain control of himself, of the moment. "...And that roadkilled hamster you call a beard." 

It worked. Noct successfully veered away from the direction of the conversation as though avoiding some vast obstacle on the road in front of him, and it made them both laugh, mercifully and far more than the joke deserved. Noct didn't think he could stand it if it didn't. Prompto stepped back, wiping his eyes and pretending it was only from laughter. 

"Look, leave my beard out of this, man." 

"I can't leave it out, it's all up in my face all the time." 

"It is not, it's attached to _me_." 

"With what? Super glue?" 

"It's just a beard, bro!" Prompto waved his arms as though beseeching the forest to take his side. "Seriously, why do you hate it so much?" 

Noct meant to answer lightly. It would be easier than the truth, surely. Easier to keep Prompto at arm's length until Noct could deal with it, but how in the hell was that fair? It wasn't, and Prompto had been waiting long enough. Too long. Ten years--it might as well be a hundred, by the weight of Noct's heart.

"Because... I see your face, and I see how long I was gone." Noct swallowed hard, and tried to remind himself that no matter all that had happened--a return, a sacrifice, sleeping to waking to death and then life again--it had still only been in the space of a few days. Not even a week had passed since he had set foot on the ruined dock of Galdin Key, and in the broken timeline of his own memories it had only been mere seconds before that when he had fallen into the Crystal. Of course it was raw and painful. Of course it all still hurt. Of course he had been given no time to come to terms with it. 

He thought of the peaceful slumber of death and realized that the Astrals had given them no easy path, here on this strange new world together. In death, they could be content with silence, but here things would have to be faced, be spoken about, be dealt with. They could not simply be dismissed as the relics of their mortal lives. The pain of living was immediate and inescapable, and Noct felt it everywhere. But more than anything, he felt it in the as-yet-unfamiliar shape of Prompto's older face. 

"I keep looking for him," Noct breathed, his eyes on the zipper tab of Prompto's vest. 

"Looking for...me?" Prompto asked, and Noct shook his head.

"For the guy I knew back then. The one who I used to know, who was afraid of the dark and heights and small places and bugs and of being himself. The one who tried so hard to keep smiling all the time anyway. The one who had a secret he couldn't tell us and didn't know how much we loved him and wouldn't care. The one I kissed on a motel roof in the middle of the night when I didn't know how. The one who was always beside me, even when it was hard. I keep looking for him--" Noct's voice started to falter, and he tightened his grip on Prompto's shoulders as though to steady it. "And instead all I see is how long I let him down. How long I left him alone." 

"Noct." Prompto put his hands on either side of Noct's face, lifting it so Noct would meet his eyes, so he would see the boy he had known in them. "He's still here," Prompto whispered, and bit his lip to rein in a wave of emotion that would keep him from speaking if he let it take over. "He's always been here. Just like you were always with him." Prompto and pressed the heel of his hand against his heart, and then laid it over Noct's. "Right here. That's where. I know I've changed, but I'm still him. The one you knew. If you can't see him in me, just... Look there instead." 

"I don't have to," Noct said, and for once his tears got the better of him before Prompto's did. "He's right in front of me." 

It was too much even for a kiss, and for a long time they only held on to each other, and wept in a way that boys might have been ashamed of but men could not be. They cried until they found laughter on the other end of the grief, and it was like the reverse mirror of that last night before Insomnia, only with all the fear and the dread behind them now, and a bright sunrise ahead. 

"I would have waited longer," Prompto said, once they felt it safe enough to risk a kiss--and even that brief one lit a fire between them that turned the memory of boyhood fumbling to ash on the wind. "I would have waited forever." 

"I love you," Noct answered. Long known, but never said. Not outright like that, just for Prompto. It silenced him, utterly and perfectly, and all he could do was stare. Noct eased back on his heels and swept his fingertips under Prompto's chin, carrying on before Prompto could form a reply. He already knew Prompto's answer, and at last he seemed to have plenty of time to wait for him to say it. "But. I'm still not crazy about the beard. Why'd you grow it out, anyway?" 

Prompto finally got a hold of himself, and once he did he gave Noct a long, level look. "Noct," he said, "I've been fucking a _blind man_ for ten years." Prompto didn't say anything more, just letting that sink in, letting Noct fully comprehend not only that Prompto had not been idle in Noct's absence--which explained the searing expertise of his kiss--but also the complete suite of sensations and activities that could be enhanced with a little bit of facial hair. Especially for a man whose loss of one sense had cranked his others up past all the dial markings. 

It was Noct's turn to be struck dumb for a moment, and his eyes widened in understanding at last. " _Ah_ ," he said. "So. Right. Iggy, uh. He liked the--" 

"Yes," Prompto said, and there was mischief in his eyes and in the way he tilted his mouth just so against the angle of Noct's jaw before whispering, "Wanna find out for yourself?"

Noct, it was safe to say, had never wanted to find out anything more. With his own guilt at last subdued, and now that he was no longer focusing on the differences and how they marked the time he'd lost, it hit him how much he _liked_ this older Prompto. He liked his boldness and his competence, he liked the fact that his old familiar goofiness had only become more genuine and less forced with age. He especially liked his frank and confident kiss, and all that it promised. Given time, Noct thought he might even learn to like the beard.

He was well on his way to being convinced of that when something small and barely-perceptible changed in the atmosphere of the glade around them: a muffled sound, or a shift in the air. Noct barely had time to sense it before Prompto's embrace transformed into a sidestep and a protective shove, pushing Noct behind him and out of harm's way. In a split second he had gone from a lover to a fighter, both guns out and trained on the glen around them, and the tension in his trigger fingers was deadly as he scanned the trees for targets. 

"Did you get that, Noct?" 

"I heard something." Noct was still trying to draw his sword; he hadn't bothered with a scabbard since his earliest training days, and he found the entire arrangement cumbersome. "What was it? Another one of Gladio's dragons?" 

Prompto tilted his head, listening intently. He was used to fighting alongside a blind man as well as sleeping with him, and he had learned the value of other senses besides sight. "Something just opened and closed somewhere. I felt it. Smelled it. Didn't you?" 

"You've spent a lot longer in the dark than I have," Noct admitted, but he could tell that something had changed. The green smells of leaf and water had been joined by something with a metallic tang, something with the cold hint of stone. 

"It came from the waterfall," Prompto said, and holstered his Quicksilver but not his Death Penalty. "Wanna check it out?" 

Noct grinned. "Hell yes, I want to check it out. I've got a hot date to get back to." 

"Oh really?" Prompto was already advancing towards the falls. "Anybody I know?" 

"Ah, some piece of ass I'm trying to get to know a little better." Noct crossed in front of Prompto to take point as they climbed up the boulders along the falls. "Hey, there's a pretty big cave back here." 

"Blegh," Prompto answered, following Noct up into a broad gallery behind the curtain of water, and wrinkling his nose at the damp space they found. "I hate caves." 

"Thank god some things about you haven't changed," Noct said, and looked around them. The opening behind the falls was a wide, mossy ledge, but shallow. A dark crevice high up at the back of the far wall hinted at a deeper passage, though Noct wasn't sure what besides bats could use it. "Or I'd think you were an imposter." 

"Okay, no, now that's not even funny," Prompto retorted, scowling. "Still too soon, man."

"Yeah, I know, I know. I'll try again in another decade." Noct frowned at the cave. "Well, I don't know where anything in here could have come from or gone. It's pretty flat." 

"Sounded like a door opening. Like a secret passage or a mechanism or..." Prompto used his free hand to tap on the walls, but nothing seemed amiss. His shoulders slumped in defeat, or maybe disappointment. "Ahh, I dunno, Noct. Maybe I'm just getting jumpy. Aren't we supposed to be the only people on this world?" 

"The only humans," Noct said, and gave Prompto a meaningful look. 

"Maybe we should go back and check on the others," Prompto said, with fresh urgency. 

"Yeah, I'm having the same idea," Noct sheathed his sword. "C'mon. This place gives me the cree--" 

Utter darkness descended with a clang of steel, as some mechanical partition between them and the waterfall dropped down from above and blocked all of the rippling light filtering through from outside. Their own shouts of confusion bounced around them in a useless clamor. Noct reached out and felt a wall of metal, too smooth to be natural, studded with small bumps like bolts. And then it flew suddenly up and away from his hand, as the seemingly-solid rock opened up under their boots and they were falling, falling without slowing down through some darkness deeper than any Noct had known since his last days on Eos. His last thought, before all thoughts left him, was that had all happened so fast, neither of them had time to scream. 

*

(to be continued).


	5. Recap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is too much. Let me sum up.

"Ahh, I believe our sleeping beauty is waking." 

"And nobody even kissed him." 

"Ha! Shows what _you_ know." 

"Well, it shows how you got caught, anyway." 

"Oh yeah? And what were you doing when _you_ got caught?" 

"...No comment." 

"Noct? Are you all right?" 

Noct's answer was an involuntary groan. He was lying on a hard, cold floor, and there was an unmistakable stench of chocobo in the air. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew his wrists and feet were manacled, and his head throbbed as though all of Mount Ravatogh had landed on it. "Luna... you guys... you're all here?" 

"Oh, you've no idea. It's a proper party, I must say." 

Noct knew that voice, which was closer to him than the others, and he knew there was no reason for it to be there. He opened his eyes, and looked up into the dirt-smudged and highly annoyed face of Ravus Nox Fleuret. 

"I would say _Good morning_ ," Ravus continued, as Noct managed to sit up, "But I've no idea if it's day or night, to be quite honest. And I can't say there's much good about any of this." 

"The hell are you doing here?" Noct wondered, looking past Ravus to Nyx, who was trussed up alongside the former prince of Tenebrae. 

"Well, it's not a _date_ ," Nyx said, by way of explanation. Ravus shot him a look that would have been murderous, except for how he was ever so slightly pink. "What?" Nyx asked him, in an innocent tone that probably was not genuine. Probably. "You've been saying that to _me_ this whole time, I just thought I ought to make it clear to everyone else." 

"They were following us," Luna said, and though she was bound, as they all were, and her hair was straggling into her face, she had the haughty tone of a wronged queen. "Ravus, how _could_ you. Nyx--" 

"Hey, he was the one following you," Nyx said, jerking his head at Ravus. "I was just following _him_." 

"Do we really have to go through this all again?" Prompto wondered, staring up at the stone roof of their prison. 

"I don't see anything else to do," Ignis sighed. "We weren't provided with a draughts board. Not that we could play if we were." He rattled his trussed hands for emphasis. 

"How about getting the hell out of here?" Noct retorted, taking quick stock of the surroundings, without much hope. The cell was not much bigger than a stable stall, carved from smooth rock on all surfaces save one, and that one opening was heavily barred. The only light came from the passage outside, and it was a steady orange glow, nothing so primitive as a torch or lantern.

"Oh yeah?" Gladio twitched an eyebrow at Noct. "You think we haven't tried that? You've been out for an hour." There were rust streaks on his shoulder where he had tried, unsuccessfully, to ram the bars open. He was wearing two pairs of both wrist and ankle cuffs, and they'd been doubly secured with chains. Their captors, whoever they were, were taking no risks with him. Their weapons had all been taken from them. 

"What are we dealing with?" Noct demanded, blinking past his headache to focus on the situation before them, and not how they'd gotten into it. "Monsters? Some kind of Daemon?" 

"We don't know," Ignis said, sounding pained by his own ignorance. "Prompto told us what happened to you two. Luna had a bad feeling when you hadn't returned by dark--" 

"The dogs had a bad feeling," Luna broke in. "They ran away when we were captured. I hope they're all right." 

"--So we went to find you," Ignis continued. "We were set upon in the woods." 

"Complete ambush," Gladio's voice betrayed his frustration. "I should have paid more attention. Wasn't expecting anything from open sky above." 

"Wait," Noct said. "Whatever these things are... they can fly?" 

"I expect so," Ignis sighed. "And they are small and swift. I could not land a single strike. They made short work of us, I'm afraid. We could have easily been dispatched completely. Instead we were covered in sacks like runaway potatoes, given a good whack on the head, and when we woke we found ourselves here."

Noct considered this, trying to think of all the beasts and daemons he had encountered in his travels, in hopes of finding something that would fit the scant details of this menace. "Goblins?" he suggested, when anything else came up short.

Prompto shook his head. "Goblins don't fly. Or take prisoners. And they might use things they find lying around, they aren't dumb. But that trap behind the waterfall was pretty sophisticated. And they certainly don't _make_ stuff. I mean, look at your cuffs, Noct." 

Noct had not given them much thought, except to be annoyed by them, but he held his bound wrists up to the meager light and had to admit that Prompto had a point. The shackles were not crude things of iron, but carefully machined and polished steel, with an intricate lock. The links holding them together were smooth and bright. It certainly didn't look like goblin-salvage. Besides, who knew if there were even goblins _on_ this world? 

"So we're probably dealing with something beyond our experience," Noct said, lowering his hands back into his lap. "Ravus. Nyx. What do you know about them?" 

"Only that we are dealing with creatures who are industrious, intelligent, and highly-organized," Ravus said, more grim than usual. Which was impressive, since the last time Noct had seen him, he'd been dead. "There is a huge network of tunnels below the surface of this world," he continued, extending one long finger to indicate the chamber around them. "All at least as cunningly built as this. And from the smell, this is nothing more than a stable. There is no sure telling how far they extend, but one thing is certain: they lie beneath the Citadel as surely as we sit here, and as such they are a menace that cannot be ignored." 

"So then how did you get here?" Luna wanted to know, sounding understandably annoyed, Noct thought. 

"That's... kind of a long story," Nyx said, and then, because there seemed to be little else to do, he told it. 

 

(Two Days Earlier)

 

"Try and do something about _that_ , Reggie." Clarus Amicitia shouldered his pool cue as though it was a broadsword, and gazed with pride at the table as though it was a field of fallen enemies. 

"Don't get cocky, Clar." Cor the Immortal had just suffered a devastating defeat himself, but he still had his cue in hand, even as he sat on one of the overstuffed leather sofas to watch the next game. "It'll just make it worse when he mops the floor with you." 

Cid snorted. He didn't play pool (he thought it was foolishness, and also he was terrible at it because he was so short), but that didn't keep him from offering commentary from the drafting board he'd set up in the corner of the office. In fact, his workspace was something of an afterthought, which was pretty rich considering it was supposed to be _his_ airship hangar. Regis had put a pool table and an assortment of squishy chairs in it almost immediately, and as a result very little work had gotten done. It didn't help that Weskham had set up a small but well-appointed bar, and he had a generous pour. 

Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII put down his tumbler of whiskey and rolled his pool cue from his elbow to his hand as he surveyed the table. "Another one of your messes to clean up, Clarus." 

"One of my better ones," Clarus agreed, and tipped his chin at Weskham in invitation. "Whaddya say, Wesk? Want to go up against this round's winner?" 

"Of course," Weskham said at once, giving his own glass a swirl before toasting Clarus with it and polishing off the contents. "I always enjoy playing against his Highness." 

Clarus' smile evaporated from his face.

"Ha!" Cid brushed eraser fribbles off the blueprint he was working on. "Ain't never learned, have ya?" 

"Six, corner pocket," Regis said, and draped himself across the table to get the shot behind his back, with an elegance of motion that years of maintaining the Wall had taken from him. Even in his shirt-sleeves and vest, even happily abdicated, there was a kingliness to him that could not be ignored, especially as he sank one ball after another--and sank Clarus' hopes of victory along with them. "There. And four." A sharp crack of pool balls. "There. And... something you wanted, Nyx?" 

Nyx Ulric stood in the workshop doorway, at attention, waiting to be noticed. "Your High--" he caught himself. "Sir." 

"It's all right, my lad," Weskham said, with a smile. "I believe _Highness_ is still an appropriate styling even for an abdicated ruler. But you should not be so formal. Come in and have a drink with us. Watch House Amicitia suffer a rare defeat." 

"I'm flattered, thank you, but I'm still on duty." Nyx tilted his head in a nod at the back wall of the workshop, and the healthy stock of bottles lined up against it. "But I'll take you up on that tonight, if you don't mind. I just came to give a report." 

"On their way, are they?" Regis knocked down two more balls, and Clarus made a pained hiss that physical injury would never inspire in him. 

"Yes, sir," Nyx answered. 

"You should have gone to see them off, Reggie," Cid scolded him. "'Cept you didn't have the balls." 

Regis' cue scraped against the surface of the pool table, sending the next ball spinning against the corner pocket bumper without sinking. He shook his head. It had been an easy shot. "Seems I don't. Your turn, Clarus." 

"It's going to be a long and difficult conversation, Cid." Cor stood up and put his cue back in the rack at last. "And Noct and his friends have had an equally long, hard battle. Let them get right between themselves before we go dumping all our motivations on them." 

"Cor the Immortal Kiss-up," Clarus said, but with long fondness, as he eyed the best angle for his shot, trying to sort out how to stay in the game. "I still think you're stalling, Reg."

"You saying I'm a coward?" Regis humphed, chalking the end of his cue. "Maybe you're right. But I didn't see you rushing over to explain things to Gladious, either." 

"No," Clarus said, shaking his head. "You sure as hell didn't." 

Regis, belatedly, noticed that Nyx was still standing in the doorway. "Something else you wanted to tell me, Nyx?" 

"Sir," Nyx said, and frowned. "As you know, we've been doing some surveying around the immediate area, and we've found... well. We've found some tunnels, sir. Under the fortress and the Crown City." 

Clarus forgot about his shot at once. "Tunnels? Like, caves?" 

"No sir," Nyx said. "Like tunnels. Actually built. And built very well." 

Regis still had the potent frown of a king. "Parts of the old subway or sewer system that came along with the citadel?" 

"Too deep for any of that, sir, and not our work." 

Cid scrubbed at his stubbly chin. "Won't compromise the city foundations, will it?" 

"If something's using those tunnels it'll sure as hell compromise our defense." Clarus shot Regis a sharp look. "Shouldn't we--" 

"You are all forgetting that I am no longer the king," Regis said, with a smile that was not entirely wistful. "Though I understand that old habits die hard. I can't make any permanent decisions on behalf of the Crown while Noct is away, but I think an investigation is in order. See to it, Nyx." 

Nyx snapped to attention. "Sir!" 

"Oh," Regis added, before Nyx managed to get out of the door, "And do be so good as to take Ravus with you? I'd like you to have another good sword with you, and he'll drive his mother into another early grave if he keeps sulking around the citadel as he has been." 

* * * 

"What?" Ravus burst out in the dungeon, interrupting Nyx's story. "How dare he!" 

"He's not wrong," Luna said, in the faintest sigh. 

"I've never been so insulted in all my--" 

"Then you should get out more," Gladio interrupted Ravus, with a grin. It felt good to get back a little at him.

"See," Nyx said, to Luna, "We weren't really following you. We were just... going in the same direction as you. At the same time. But underground." 

"Oh, well. I'm sure that changes everything," Ignis said. 

"Go on, Ulric." Gladio urged him. "How'd you two get caught?" 

"Not much to tell," Nyx said, while Ravus settled into a seethe beside him. "We'd only found one tunnel entrance--behind some rocks just outside the old wall perimeter. Hadn't made it far before we got gassed with something." 

"Something?" Ignis prompted, trying to adjust his glasses with bound hands. "Did it incapacitate you? Or was it poison?" 

"Probably just some knock-out stuff. And it did that. But not before it made us start hallucinating like hell." Nyx made a face at his bound hands. "We saw--" 

"Speak for yourself," Ravus said, bitterly. "I saw nothing." 

"Well," Nyx shrugged. "I saw some crazy shit for a few seconds before I went out." 

"It happens," Prompto said, sympathetic. "This one time? Noct got into these weird mushrooms in a cave? And--" 

"Shut up, Prompto," several people said at once. 

"Hey, c'mon, that was a whole nother life ago, surely we can--" Prompto's protest was cut off with a loud clang, as of a tripped lever, and they were all plunged into complete and utter darkness. 

"What the--" Ravus began, but Ignis hissed him into silence. 

"Someone's coming," he said. Everyone tensed to listen. There was a distant clatter and tramp, as of armored steps, not so much far away as they were small. It was accompanied by a stealthy, leathery, fluttering sound. Prompto shivered hard enough for his chains to rattle. 

"Ugh. I hope isn't some kind of giant, super-intelligent bug." 

"More likely to be bats," Gladio suggested. "Explained why they turned out the lights."

"If they were sensitive to light, why bother having any at all?" Ravus managed to sound bored, even in the dark. 

"Perhaps they wish to frighten us," Luna said, in a ringing voice. "They shall be disappointed, then." 

"I expect it's more likely someone wants to make an entrance, to take us by surprise." Ignis paused to listen again, and his voice was softer. "They're here. Two aground, three aloft. A good number more in the corridor beyond. If we cannot speak reason, we will fight. Commend yourselves to the Six, friends." 

Noct braced himself for a hard fight, willing to sell his life dearly for his companions, and for Luna. But then the lights came back up, momentarily dazzling them all, and when his vision at last cleared Noct got a his first good look at their captors. 

...Their very small, very fuzzy, very ...adorable captors. The two on the ground were in full armor, complete with little helms and tassets, so intricate in make that it made Noct's fingers cramp up just to look at all the minuscule buckles. But it was the king who got Noct's attention. He could not be anything but a king. Not with his tiny golden crown neatly framing his pom-pom, and his vestigial bat-wings beating furiously to hold him aloft, and two nattily-dressed attendants flapping behind him to hold up his ridiculously long mantle. He gave his prisoners a tiny twitch of his whiskers, and seemed unperturbed by their baffled stares (and the high-pitched whine that Prompto was making, his eyes huge and shining with happiness). 

"Be silent, monsters!" One of the guards squeaked at Prompto, brandishing a sword that, for all its diminutive size, was plenty sharp. "You are in the presence of King Furu VIII! Mind your manners, kupo." 

"We've been abducted," Ravus said, in leaden tones, "by _moogles_." 

"Oh, dear," Ignis said. "This is rather _embarrassing_." 

"I thought I was hallucinating when I saw moogles," Nyx said, one side of his face scrunched up in patent disbelief. "Aren't they imaginary?" 

"Look pretty real to me," Gladio put in.

"Ohmygodthey'resocuuuuuuuute!" Prompto said, in a barely-stifled squeak. "Lookit the little wings! And they look so soft! Look how soft they look, Luna!" 

"You have been caught trespassing above the Sovereign Kingdom of Mog," the king announced, in a regal little trill. "Kupo. You are to be brought before the High Court, there to plea your case before the Moogle Council. Choose one of your number to testify on your behalf, and another to bear witness, and we will declare your sentence thereafter, Kupo." 

"I vote for Noct to go," Prompto said, immediately. "You're the king, Noct," he whispered, though everyone could still hear him. "Go and... king at him, or compare your king-scores, or whatever you do with other kings." 

"In my experience I _get stabbed_ by other kings, Prompto." 

Ignis spoke up, as formal as ever, in spite of the fact that he was addressing a small, airborne puffball of white fur. "Your highness, please allow me to speak," he said. "I fear there has been a grave misunderstanding." He gestured to Noct as gracefully as his bonds would allow. "This is King Noctis Lucis Caelum, of Eos, one-hundred-and-fourteenth of his line, and I am his advisor, and we his escort. We beg forgiveness for our intrusion, as we are strangers here on your world and did not know of your sovereignty. Please allow us to speak with you on behalf of our people, so that we may make things right between us." 

Nyx raised his eyebrows, impressed. Ravus looked like he was considering having his arm burnt off again, and that it was preferable to where he was. The kingly moogle mulled over Ignis' offer, rotating slowly in mid-air and forcing his attendant moogles to scramble around underneath him to keep his mantle straight. "Kupo," he said, at last. "We will hear your pleas, monsters. Guards, bring them to the audience chamber." 

The armored moogles responded with a rousing chorus of _kupo-po-ku_ as they prodded at Noct and Ignis to get them to stand. 

"Right, Noct," Ignis said, getting to his feet. "Time to put those diplomacy lessons to good use." 

Noct put his face in his manacled hands instead, and wondered if it was too late to ask Shiva to just let them all be dead again.

*

(to be continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, you guys are lucky I can't stand cliffhangers any more than you can. 
> 
> Two things:  
> 1\. Furu is the name of Zell's stuffed moogle in our old FFVIII arc. Hence his fluffy majesty's name and number.  
> 2\. "Abducted by moogles" has become the new household euphemism for getting your rag.


	6. Ruby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High adventure that's beyond compare...

"Why do you keep humming like that?" 

From the other side of their narrow cell, Prompto stared at Ravus in disbelief. "Don't you recognize it?" He hummed harder, as though this would help. 

"No." Ravus was unmoved. 

"Oh, come on, it's the theme song to _Moogle Lair_! Didn't you watch that when you were a kid?" Prompto could not fathom the blank looks he was getting, so in the hopes of jogging some memories he sang: " _Moogle Lair, full of flapping moogles everywhere, cute and clever and beyond compare, this is the moogle lai--_ Didn't they have that in Tenebrae?" 

"Hey." Nyx blinked in surprised recognition. "Yeah. I do know that. Sometimes we'd get TV signal from Insomnia out in Galahd, if the weather was good. My little sister loved to--" He paused, looked down at his boots, and then did not say anything else. 

"Iris liked it too," Gladio said, sensing an upwelling in brotherly angst. "Still don't think I could sing the whole damn theme song, though." 

"We weren't allowed to watch much television," Luna explained to Prompto. "There was only the Imperial-approved station, anyway." 

"Oh, wow," Prompto said, aghast at this childhood hardship. "Moogle Lair was the _best_. Except for maybe _Chocobo Tales_. I'd come home after school every day to watch it. But _Chocobo Tales_ ' theme song gets stuck in my head all the time. _Something something some-thing Cho-Co-Bo Tales, wark wark..._ " 

"Excuse me," Ravus said, to the moogle standing stoically on guard duty by their cell. "I'd like to request to be executed, please."

Gladio held up his hand. "Make that two." 

* 

"Tell me again how we got into this situation." Noct and Ignis were walking alone down a long, sloping corridor that descended into darkness. Behind them, the entrance to the passage had shrunk to a bright circle the size of a coin, and the contingent of spear-bearing moogles guarding it could no longer be seen. Not that they needed to be visible for the point to be clear. There was only one way forward, and one way back, and the way back was lined with grim-faced moogles with very small, very sharp spears--and very little in the way of humor. 

"I believe," Ignis answered, sounding ever so slightly peevish, "you gallantly offered King Furu to do whatever was required to prove our trustworthiness, and earn freedom for our companions." 

"Hey, wait." Noct gave Ignis an incredulous stare, one whose impact was greatly reduced in the dwindling light as they went further down the path. They had been given their weapons, but no lights. "Are you blaming _me_ for this?" 

Ignis did not bat an eyelash. "Yes," he said. And then, very belatedly, added, "Your Highness." 

"You were the one who had to tell his furry majesty that we'd just conquered a great evil in our world, and _you_ said I was--and I'm quoting you here: _a mighty king ordained by our gods, and powerful in both war and wisdom_." 

"I'm beginning to doubt the wisdom bit," Ignis sniffed. 

"I'm _already_ doubting why you even had to go there." 

"Because," Ignis said in a strained voice, as the darkness deepened as they walked further down the path, "Your castle has just landed in his back garden, and you look like an unkempt peasant in need of a good barbering, not a great leader of your people. I had to do something to bring in the idea that you're actually a king, not some thief to have his head snicked off at the earliest convenience. Which, I assure you, this lot would do. Tiny babby bat wings and ikle pink nosies or no."

"So now we have to go and find this... this whatever it is." 

"Ambershell." 

"And take it to this--" 

"Antlion." 

"That's totally supposed to be--" 

"Tame," Ignis finished. 

"And then it's supposed to make some jewel or something for us to bring as proof of our victory." Noct cocked an eyebrow at Ignis, but the only part of him visible now was a faint gleam of his glasses. The tunnel opening was a distant, fading star. "You buy any of that?" 

"Not a jot," Ignis said, calmly. "We're all going to die." 

"Nice," Noct said, and loosened his sword in its sheath. 

* 

(Earlier)

"Remember your training, Noct," Ignis said to him, as they marched down the corridor in the company of a contingent of armed moogles, hands still bound. "Diplomacy is diplomacy, regardless of culture. Or... fluffiness." 

"I'm just really glad Prompto stayed in the cell," Noct said, studying the passage around them while trying not to show any active interest in it. It was both beautifully engineered and seemed to have no obvious escape routes. "He'd probably start off by singing the _Moogle Lair_ song." 

"Oh, dear." Ignis wrinkled his nose to try and get his glasses back up it, all that he could do without use of his hands. "I do wish I'd had time to mention to him the delicacies of inter-societal first contact and the lasting damage of cultural appropriation." 

"It woulda been easier just to tell him to keep his mouth shut," Noct said. "And probably as effective." 

"Which is to say, not at all." 

They had emerged from the passage (there was a signboard that indicated STABLES, with an arrow pointing the way they had come), and entered what was undoubtedly the main hub of the Moogle-city. A vast chamber rose upwards around a subterranean waterfall, and tunnels led off in every direction at every level. The space was lit with warm, old-fashioned bulbs, and it and the bright colors the moogles favored gave the place a fairy-tale glow. Ignis, without Noct's need to appear aloof and regal, eyed their surroundings with keen interest. He was especially intrigued by the network of pipes that seemed to be made of glass, with scrolls and envelopes of all sizes shooting up and down them in little gilded capsules, as if by magic. There were chocobos here--as Prompto no doubt would be delighted to learn--and they looked happy in their fancy livery as they carried loads too large for moogles from one level to the next, either up the spiraling road, or by elevated platforms that rose and fell like a carnival ride alongside the waterfall. The falls propelled water-wheels attached to gears as large as a limousine or as tiny as a fingernail, all powering the lifts and who-knows-what other mechanical wonders. They passed a massive clock in the middle of the bustling plaza, numbered with hours and planets and suns and stars, its inner workings populated with fanciful carved figures (Ignis spied many moogles, chocobos, birds he did not know, and a bright green Gurapaughk). Everywhere moogles going about their daily business stopped and stared in baffled wonder or fear at the strange creatures parading through the middle of their warrens. There were hundreds of them, and their clothing and armor was rich and well-made, and would not have been out of place during Carnival in Altissia. 

"I must admit," Ignis said to Noct, in a low voice, "these... people are far more advanced than I first thought. If this were to come to conflict, in our present state, it could prove very bad indeed." 

"So we do whatever it takes to make them happy," Noct said, as they paused before an ornate set of double doors, towering by moogle standards. Even Gladio could have passed through them without having to duck. "Got it." 

"I wouldn't say that--" Ignis began, but it was too late. The doors swung shut behind them. The council had begun. 

* 

"So you _are_ blaming me," Noct said. It was utterly black in the tunnel now, and he was following Ignis blindly, the irony of the phrase not lost on him. Ignis, however, walked on without hesitation through the darkness. 

"I think I said that earlier," Ignis said, two steps ahead. 

Noct was going to retort; he stumbled instead, and swore. 

"Mind your step," Ignis said, helpfully. 

"Did anyone explain to _you_ why we can't have lights?" 

"Only that _they_ do not come out where it is light," Ignis answered. "And that _they_ have the Ambershell." 

Noct felt a cold knot of dread begin to form in the pit of his stomach. "What's _they_?" 

"I imagine, whatever's making that noise." Ignis stopped walking, suddenly. Noct skidded to a halt behind him. "You hear it?" 

Noct didn't, not at first. But then he did, somewhere far ahead and coming rapidly closer, and he wished he hadn't. It was a dry, hollow, rustly-clicking kind of sound, as of legs. Big, skeletal legs. 

Hundreds upon hundreds of them. 

Noct drew his sword and tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was dry. His hands, on the other hand, were clammy, and he struggled to keep a firm grip on the hilt of his Ultima Blade. They were approaching from dead ahead. He'd warp in front of Ignis, hit the leader and--

 _You can't do that anymore_ , his brain reminded him. Unconsciously, at the same moment, he had started to reach inside himself to check his equipment. But there was nothing there. No armiger. No fancy herbal energy drinks that turned to magic potions by his will. He could not fly. He could not even see. The susurration of movement was all around them now, drowning out everything else save for the sound of Noct's heart, deafening as it beat hard and fast inside his chest, hammering out the only solid truth Noct could hold on to in that swarming nothingness: 

He was terrified. 

* 

"Time to come out, kupo." 

Prompto lifted his head from his knees. Everyone else was asleep or dozing; but at the rattle of the keys Luna raised her cheek from Ravus' shoulder and peered at the guard-moogle, perplexed. 

"Are we... are we being released?" 

"I only know my orders, kupo." Small, clever paws made quick work of the lock, and of the manacles around their feet, but left their hands bound. "King Furu wants to see you all." 

* 

"Noct!" Ignis' voice came through a haze; it seemed to Noct that Ignis had been saying it for a very long time. "Noct, are you all right?" 

Something struck Noct's face and he lashed out with his sword; the edge glanced against an armored carapace without doing any harm. The blade made sparks, as though it had struck flint, and in that flash of light Noct could see one massive, winding, segmented body, encircling them both in the middle of a round chamber. Livid red legs undulated all around it, tapping on the walls, the floor, the roof. Mandibles clicked in his ear, and it was a mercy when he could not see it anymore. 

"I'm scared," Noct gasped, too frightened for anything but honesty. How was it possible? He'd defeated the ancient evil of Eos. He'd driven the swords of his ancestors through his own breast to banish the darkness and reclaim the sun. How could he be _scared?_ But he was. Too scared to take a step, to lift his sword. _How do I fight it? Where is its head? Is there more than one? I can't see anything. What if I hit Ignis?_

"This is no time to panic, Noct--" 

"I don't know how to fight without my arms," Noct admitted, in a voice that certainly sounded panicked. Something sharp sliced at his face, and left a stinging line on his cheek. A thin, hot trickle of blood slid down his jaw. Ignis' halberd whistled past Noct's ear, and the giant insect hissed a long, thin noise of pain. 

"I learned to fight without my eyes," Ignis said, and his back was against Noct's back, warm and sturdy, reassuring. "You can learn to fight without your armiger. Your back to mine. Come. Lift your sword." 

Noct had not heard that tone of Ignis' in a long time. It was gentle, but firm. Patient. _A formal Altissian bow begins on the left foot. When greeting a representative of the Galahdian Temple, avert your eyes. Sash over the right shoulder with the buckle even with your armpit. Tell me the four noble houses of Tenebrae. Microwaved burritos are not a complete diet._

Without knowing it, Noct set his shoulders and his feet in his old training stance. As he had years ago, with Gladio, armed only with a wooden waster and long before he could command the magic in his blood. The centipede tried another blow at his face, and this time his block was less clumsy. 

"Good," Ignis said, still in his advisor-voice. "Close your eyes if you find you keep trying to use them. Listen. It clicks its jaws, you hear it? Aim for that." 

"Is it just one bug?" Noct asked. He wasn't sure what was better or worse: multiple enemies, or the idea that all those legs belonged to one creature. 

"It's just one," Ignis said, as he stepped back and half-turned, and Noct, against his back, moved with him like a partner in a dance. Noct's eyes were closed. He could hear a different kind of tapping, to his left. He swung at it as Ignis' spear came down, and something went crunch. The whole massive body around them twitched and tightened before it began moving faster, making a sound like rain on a corrugated plastic roof. "And," Ignis continued, "now we've made it mad." 

"It's still only got one head," Noct said, listening for it. When he heard it, he heard it like a flash of light or a scent of perfume, and this time he was the one that moved in for the strike first. His blow landed, and another, and another. Something hot spattered up on his face, and the centipede was screaming its tightening-wire scream, and all the legs were flailing and waving, batting at Noct's shoulders, unable to find purchase. Until, with one final rattling spasm, the whole thing went still, and Noct's legs went out from under him, his sword clattering on stone. 

"Is it dead?" 

"Yes," Ignis said, and spat something out of his mouth. "Eugh. Merciful gods. That was _awful_." 

"Yeah," Noct agreed, with an unsteady laugh. "Thanks for saving my ass." 

"It's my job," Ignis demurred. He made a grunt of effort and something cracked, hollow and wet. "And my pleasure, as well. Ah. Now. I think this is what we're looking for, don't you--" He broke off. "Noct. You can open your eyes."

Noct did not realize he still had them closed, and he opened them. The cavern was suffused with a warm, golden glow. In its light he could see himself and he could see Ignis, both of them spattered with vivid green monster ichor. The dead centipede lay twisted all around them like a derailed roller-coaster train, its legs curled, its head dangling by only a bit of chitin. There was a large, gory hollow in it, just behind its glittering eyes, and gleaming in Ignis' hand was a sphere of a strange, orangeish material. It was the source of the light. 

"If this isn't an ambershell," Ignis said, reaching down to help his king to his feet, "I'm damned if I know what is." 

"Now we just have to take it to an antlion," Noct said, getting his bearings. He was glad he did not have to blind-fight as a matter of necessity, and somewhere inside him his admiration and respect for Ignis--already great--increased tenfold. "Which passage should we take?" 

The centipede's carcass looped around and around the cavern and seemed to be endless; no wonder the moogles used a plural for it. It had emerged from a hole on the far side of the chamber, but there were other tunnels leading away. 

"I'm not sure," Ignis admitted. "In point of fact I don't even know what an antlion is, does, or looks like." He paused to inspect one of the openings, and in that moment a long, low sound floated up from the passage on Noct's left. 

Noct stepped over a mess of legs to get to it, and looked down the tunnel. It was wide and dry, and seemed to have fine layer of sand down it. "Do you think it roars?" he asked. 

Ignis swung his halberd, shaking bug-blood off the gleaming tip. "I think we're going to find out." 

* 

"So you're saying that the antlion needs the ambershell so it can lay its eggs," Luna repeated, having listened very carefully to King Furu's explanation. "And that's when it makes the sandruby. Usually it will go and kill a thousand-legs itself--" 

"Hundred-thousand, kupo," the moogle-king corrected her. 

"--and eat it. But the antlion has been sick, and has not gone out of its den this spring, so it may not nest this year." 

King Furu nodded sadly, his pom-pom sagging. "That's right." He put his chin down in his puff of chest fur, and sank sadly into his throne. "Kupo," he finished, as though the effort was too much. 

"And instead of sending your men to go and do your dirty work," Gladio said, in a dangerous rumble, "You sent our king and our friend to do it for you." 

"All so you could get some jewel you wanted," Prompto added, equally unwilling to let this slide. Moogles were cute and all, but he'd just gotten Noct back, and not even a week ago. 

"It is not for the jewel," King Furu said, holding up both his paws. "Kupo! It is what the jewel can do!" 

Ravus pursed his lips. He had no tremendous love for Noct, and could give or take his entourage of imbeciles, but risking two lives for a mere trinket seemed rich even for him. "What? Will it propel some marvel of yours? Adorn some diadem? Win some haughty princess' heart?" 

Never had a moogle looked so miserable. He gestured beyond the draperies surrounding his throne, and an attendant dressed in a starched white apron and cap came fluttering from the chambers beyond, a tiny bundle in her arms. At a nod from the king, she flapped up in front of them, and pulled away a corner of the blanket. Nestled inside was the tiniest moogle they had yet seen, no bigger than Gladio's hand, its pom-pom only a curled whisker. Though it was sweet and small and they knew nothing of moogles, it was plain that this one, this child, was terribly ill. His fur was damp, his nose dry and crusty, his black eyes bleary with fever. 

"Kupopo! My poor little Moglet," King Furu cried out, and put his face in his paws. "Only the sandruby can cure him. My queen went to fetch it not three days ago, and did not tell anyone lest we stop her, but--kupo." The king's wings shook on his back, and all the moogles of the court bowed their heads in grief. 

"You could have sent all of us," Nyx said, as the nursemoogle fluttered away with her pitiful charge. "We would have gladly--" 

"Too many knights would have frightened it away, kupo," the king sighed, rubbing his paw on his nose. "The beast shies from large numbers, and from light. And its venom is too strong for any of my moogles. I could not send one of my own on such a mission. Could a king ask one of his people to die for his son? Kupo. No, a king could not. Not and call himself king." 

Gladio and the others exchanged an uncomfortable glance. It was never a good thing when you've been out-humaned by a moogle. 

"I was at the end of my whiskers, Kupo," Furu admitted. "And ready to go myself, alone, though I am not the warrior my queen was. She was the strongest and bravest. What hope would I have? And, kupo, what if I had failed? My moogling would die, kupo, and my people would be kingless." 

"I would have gone," one of the guard-moogles said, standing in her gleaming armor by the king's chair, and high-ranking, from the looks of her. "Majesty, any of your moogles would have gone, had you only asked, kupo." Her assertion was joined by a faint chorus of _kupo_ from all around the throne room. 

The king waved the brave moogle's offer away. "Yes, Kupori, I know you would have. And all of you. But this is what it is to be a king, kupo. To be the first to arms, the last to retreat, and to never falter or waver, kupo. To spare your people suffering even though it means you must suffer yourself." He looked up at them. "I could tell, kupo, from your king's face: He understood this." 

Prompto swallowed hard. His throat felt very tight, all of a sudden. "Yes, he does," he said, and then, after a little pause added, "Kupo." 

Gladio shot him a look. 

"What?" Prompto protested. "It's _contagious_." 

Gladio rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, but why have you called us here?" Luna asked, her hands folded firmly in front of her, as though she wished to wring her fingers but had too much poise to do so. "And loosed our bonds?" 

"They have been gone a long time, kupo," King Furu said, and his ears drooped. "I promised, for their effort, that you would be freed regardless, kupo, of their success or failure. I had hoped to free you all, but--" 

The king's explanation was interrupted by a clamor from beyond the throne room doors, lots of shouting and flapping and kupoing. Kupori the guard-moogle stepped in front of her king with her spear at the ready. 

"Let us in," Someone demanded, someone tired and angry and without the faintest hint of a _kupo_ in his voice.

"Noct!" Prompto shouted happily, as Gladio elbowed milling moogles out of the way and threw back the throne room doors. 

"Bloody hell, it's not like we weren't expected," Ignis said, his usual diplomacy in tatters, as were his clothes. They were, both of them, a mess. Noct's t-shirt was barely hanging on by its collar, the rest of it in rags, and they were covered in scrapes and bruises, and crusty green insect blood and--rather more fresh--their own. Ignis' glasses were warped. Among the mud and the grime they seemed, inexplicably, to be _glittering_ , but on close inspection this was only that they were both covered in a fine layer of pinkish sand. 

"You son of a bitch," Noct said, wiping blood from his mouth. "You said that antlion was tame!" 

King Furu tapped his fore-claws together, sheepish. "Well, it's... tame-ish? Kupo?" 

"I'd hate to see belligerent, then," Ignis retorted, and waved Gladio away. "Shh it's fine. I've had worse. Don't fuss. Why are you all here?" 

"His fuzziness thought you were dead." Gladio said, and clapped Ignis on the shoulder, scattering a mist of sand all over the intricate parquet floor. 

"Very nearly," Ignis said, with a shudder. "But now that we've done our fetch-quest, let's give--" 

"Wait," Noct said, and gave King Furu a hard look. "We've done what you asked, and at great peril. Will you do as you promised? Allow us freedom of the surface, and to aid our people in times of need, as we will aid yours?" 

"Noct," Prompto hissed, in a bad whisper. "Noooct. Don't be a jerk. He needs that ruby for--" 

Noct held up his hand to silence Prompto. "And will we put this together in words and in ink into the laws of our kingdoms, as a treaty most sacred, to be undone only to dishonor us both?" 

Ignis let out a tiny sigh of pride, and rubbed one knuckle under his eye. 

"Kupo," King Furu said, with a grave nod, and Noct smiled. 

"Then prepare the treaty, and until then, you have my word, and you have this." And Noct dropped the sandruby, a little sparkling red tear, into the moogle-king's outstretched paw. 

The moogle looked at it, smelled it, held it up to the light, and then rose up from his throne in a flapping spiral of happiness. "Bring my son to me, kupo," King Furu commanded in a voice that was firm, but full of emotion. 

"Son?" Noct said, turning to Prompto with puzzled eyebrows. "What's this about, now?" 

"Just wait," Prompto said, and bounced on his heels with barely suppressed excitement, humming under his breath. 

"I just-- is that the _Moogle-Lair_ song?" 

"Will you both shut your _necks_ ," Ravus said, exasperated. 

"Shall I bring his cradle, kupo?" The Nursemoogle asked, out of breath from flapping so hard. 

"Allow me, ma'am. Your majesty." Nyx went down on one knee beside the steps to the throne, and held out his hands. At a nod from the king, the nursemoogle laid Prince Moglet, in his little embroidered blanket, in the Kingsglaive's cupped hands. The sick child was very still, his rickety breathing too loud in the hushed room. Luna folded her own hands in front of her silently moving lips, her head bowed in prayer. Though Noct couldn't hear her, and though the words no longer had the power to drive away illness, he knew what she was saying, and his eyes burned at the memory. 

_Blessed stars of life and light--_

"Kupo," King Furu breathed, and the little jewel shattered in his paw, falling in a rain of red light over his son. For a moment in the throne room, nobody--human or moogle--dared to breathe. And then, as the ruby light began to fade, the prince of the Moogles took a deep breath, opened his bright, black eyes, yawned a tiny yawn, and blinked up at his father. 

"...Kuu?" 

The king swept his son joyously into his arms, and the chamber erupted into cheers. Prompto flung his arms around Noct and kissed him, all thoughts of royal protocol forgotten. Ravus, wearing a smile that few of them had seen before (and Luna had not seen in years, though it suited him very well), picked his sister up and swung her around in the air as she laughed, ponytail flying. Even Ignis suffered to let Gladio put an arm around his shoulders in public. Nyx found himself accepting a somber warrior's vow of comradeship from Kupori, the Captain of the Royal Guard. 

"You have brought such happiness to my house, Kupo," King Furu said, cradling his son in his arms and flying up so that he was eye-level with Noct. "King of the Humans. Will you accept our hospitality tonight, and rest? And then feast with us tomorrow, to celebrate, kupo, this treaty, and this friendship? May it live for a thousand generations, Kupo." 

"I would be honored," Noct said, untangling himself from Prompto long enough to bow. 

"If poorly dressed, for a banquet," Ignis said, making a deft motion with his handkerchief to his eyes. "All the luggage is in the car." 

"Allow us to take care of that, kupo." King Furu, unwilling to let the Nursemoogle have Prince Moglet back right away, snapped his claws with his free paw. A messenger appeared at once, carrying a scroll longer than he was. "Kupo. Send word to the Tailor's Guild, the Cobbler's Guild, the Chefs, the Wineries, the oh, kupo, just send word to everyone. We must have the biggest party our kingdoms have ever seen!" He winked at Luna. "We moogles, we like parties. And we like to make things, kupo." 

"Yes," Luna said, brushing her bangs out of her face. "Yes, I've seen. And you make things very well." 

"I understand that you are a princess, kupo." King Furu puffed up his chest fur, and finally let the nurse take his child, now sleeping peacefully. "What noble company we have! A princess must have a dress for a banquet. What color, kupo, would you like best? I will let the Dyer's Guild know." He leaned in to her, as though in confidence. "You have to let them know early, kupo. They're so kupo about colors." 

"Oh," Luna said, taken aback by this. "I um, I'm afraid I have bad luck with dresses, of late. But I suppose whi--" 

"Blue," Noct and Ravus said, at the same time, and gave each other a measuring look that was not exactly friendly. 

"It is your favorite color. Sister." Ravus said, as though to make it clear that he knew what Luna liked better, and he was her brother, and that made him a prince, and therefore no shirker in the rank department himself. 

Noct, being Noct, just ignored him, though he did lean over Luna's shoulder and murmur, "You can't climb trees in a white dress." 

"Blue, then," Luna said, and took one of their hands in each of hers. "And do be so good as to put my brother in lavender, which suits him best, and King Noctis in something other than black. He looks like a walking funeral." 

"You're one to talk," Ravus said, suffering to hold Noct's hand one removed, so long as that one was Luna. "I've been meaning to ask this for some time, Lunafreya, but... what in the name of all the gods are you _wearing_?" 

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antlion is never tame. Never. FFS. And I always forget to equip my desert boots.
> 
> (Also. One of my earliest mary-sues was for Gummi Bears. She was half human, half bear! I was young enough that I didn't fully realize the implications of that.)


	7. Interim

Her Grace the Regent of Lucis sat on the bottom step of the Kingdom's most holy shrine, her chin in her hands and her court robes in a rumpled puddle around her. She had just had a very, very long day, and she was telling her brother all about it. 

"And as if arguing for four hours about the best ways to repair the goddamn citadel toilets--because these idiots are so addicted to crisis management they can't deal with the fact that not everything is a sequel to the apocalypse--Talcott had to corner me before the Environmental Restoration Committee meeting and ask me to marry him. Right there. Under your memorial painting. As if that would make it more meaningful and less of an entirely ridiculous idea. I could have punched him. I _should_ have punched him. Except it would be like kicking a puppy. Oh, Gladdy." Iris put her face in her hands. "What am I going to do with them all?" 

"Have you considered a firing squad?" 

"Would that be better than puppy-kicking?" 

"Marginally." 

Iris had learned it was better to not look behind her. Because what was behind her never changed, had not changed one bit in all the time it had been there, and it was as sad and as wondrous as it had ever been. The still figures of Noctis and his companions were, as always, serene and unchanging under the magical ice. As though they were only sleeping against each other, waiting for the morning when they would wake, laughing and yawning and arguing about breakfast, before setting off on some new adventure. 

In the city, among those who had not known them when they were alive, the legends were already beginning to form. You would be hard pressed to find any schoolchild under the age of ten who would not swear to you, on the names of the Six, that someday in Lucis' darkest hour, King Noctis of the Dawn would rouse with his knights to come to his kingdom's aid. There was no point in arguing that he had already done this--and that it cost him his life and the lives of many he loved. It had become matter of fact. It had become myth. And Iris could find no comfort in myths. What she wanted, and had always wanted, was her brother. 

And she found, if she did not turn around, that he would be there. She could hear his voice. Smell the comfortable, familiar scent of him. Once or twice she had seen him, out of the corner of her eye, when he made some gesture that brought his hand or his profile into her peripheral vision. If she turned to look, he would be gone, and so she had not. But she knew, somehow, that he had not changed. The days that passed so slowly for her had no effect on him, and why should they? He was dead. He had been dead for years. 

But if she did not turn and did not push too hard to see him, he was always there. Not a venerated corpse, but himself. His own voice and blunt humor and rough affection, and she was sure--very nearly sure--that he was not a product of her own mind. He sometimes told her things she would rather not hear, and gave her advice that was hard to take (but was almost always correct). And that seemed not quite indulgent enough for a delusion. Sometimes she could swear he was not alone, either. That the others were with him, just out of her perception. 

It seemed rude to call him a ghost. So she just called him what she had always called him. 

"Do you think I should have said yes, Gladdy?" 

"I dunno, do you love him?" 

Iris heard him sit down behind her; in her mind (and a little of her vision) she could see a boot-toe, the trim on the edge of his cuff. She thought of Talcott (dear, loyal, none-too-sharp Talcott) and then she thought of Aranea and Cindy, and she shook her head. "No," she admitted. "Well, I mean, I love him, he's the sweetest, but I'm not in love with him, and--" 

"Don't need to make excuses to me, Iris. 'No' is a plenty good answer." 

"It might not be for him," she sighed. "But even if I did want to... you know what would happen if I got married. If I had kids." 

"Sure. Brand new monarchy, all set up for those pencil-pushers trying to make you queen." 

"Exactly. And I've worked too long and too hard to get this republic off the ground for that." She winced, and rubbed her hip. It seemed like the chipped stone steps of the old dais were getting harder with every passing year. The wounds she'd gotten as a daemon slayer were just scars now, and they ached when the weather changed. Threads of gray had started to show up in her braid, and she tried not to pay them any mind. But someone else had noticed them. 

Gladio had just reached out and touched her temple. Iris sucked in a startled breath, and froze. His hand was warm over her pinned-up braid, and heavy on her shoulder. He squeezed it, as he had always done, and it bought tears to her eyes. He had never touched her before. (Sometimes she thought she understood what it meant, that as she aged he became more real rather than dim with distance. She was not moving away from him, she was moving towards him, and the thought did not make her frightened.) 

"Not that you wouldn't be a great queen, but you'll always be my princess. Get some rest, Iris."

"I'll try," she whispered. 

"Do better than try, or I'll come rattle some chains by your bedside." 

It made her laugh, wetly. "Oh, please. You would be the worst ghost ever." 

"Yeah? Don't try me. Now go to bed. Deal with Talcott and toilets in the morning." 

"Ugh, you're a nag even when you're dead." 

"Not sure why you thought that would change." Iris felt his hand fall away. His voice had grown quieter. "...Love you, Iris." 

"Love you, Gladdy."

There was no answer. Iris looked behind her. The king was on his throne. His knights were by his side. She was alone, and she closed her eyes.

 

In another world, Gladiolus Amicitia opened his. It was the middle of the night, and he was lying on the floor of a guest room in a moogle palace because he wouldn't fit in the bed. The ridiculousness of that fact did a good deal to dull the edge of his pain. 

Every night, since they had come here, he had the dreams. Sometimes three or four clear ones played out between dusk and dawn, and he felt there were more between those that he could not remember. And with every one, more time seemed to pass in the Eos they had left behind. Gladio did not know if any of it was real. But it gave him a strange feeling--excitement or fear, he was no longer sure--and he felt like there was something incredibly important in front of him, something so vast that he was only able to grope around a fraction of its surface and would never discern its true shape. He was an ant waving its antennae dumbly at a towering wall, but that wall was in truth only the littlest toe of some great, unseen colossus. It made his head hurt. But then again, that could be down to the amount of wine he'd drunk at dinner. 

It had not been the promised banquet, not yet. This had merely been a modest meal King Furu had provided, the best (as he said) that could be managed on short notice. And if the free-flowing wine and delicate fish and mountains of sugared cakes were _modest_ , well then, Gladio was looking forward to the actual party. Umbra and Pryna had interrupted the dinner when they arrived in the middle of the soup course, covered in mud and looking pleased at having found their mistress. The moogles did not know what to make of dogs at first (as they themselves only knew wolves and foxes), but before the night was out Luna and Kupori were planning a whole unit of mounted moogle knights on dogback--so long as Pryna one day obliged them with puppies.

Gladio had been pretty drunk by the time they were shown to their quarters. They all had been, even the Tenebrae contingent and the Kingsglaive. Moogle wine was potent stuff. And Moogles, apparently, slept in heaps to keep the cold of the caves away, so Noct, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis were given a pile of pillows and mattresses and fur blankets to share in surprising comfort on the floor of the best guest quarters. Luna had been given the queen's private room; King Furu insisted it would be the greatest honor and comfort to his heart if she would accept it, as it would be what his queen herself would have done. She had the dogs--freshly groomed--to keep her company. Nyx and Ravus had been roomed together in the officers' barracks (with suspiciously little protest from either of them). 

And for the first time since the journey the four of them were together, and alone, with the whole night in front of them and no doom waiting at the end of it. No amount of wine could make Gladio forget what transpired afterwards. It was something he would be unlikely to forget, even if time robbed him of all other memories. 

It had been a decade. It felt like longer. And yet it felt like no time had passed at all. They renewed their fealty to their king and Noct accepted it, over and over, until his voice broke on their names and his body shook with their loyalty, to him and to each other. It was safe to say that all of them cried at least once. And did several other things more than twice. And when exhaustion and pleasure and five barrels of King Furu's best claret had done their work they slept in each other's arms, with a peace they had not known since the days when Insomnia stood proud in the east, and the wall shone unbroken over all.

Gladio sat up in the mess of bedding. Noct and Prompto were still asleep, nested together like they had always slept in the tent, even before they became lovers. Their arms were linked, legs tangled, and they seemed oblivious to any suffering the world had to offer. Noct had one hand over the thick scar on Prompto's thigh. Prompto was smiling between snores. Gladio tugged the blankets back over them and then fumbled around in their scattered clothing for his pants. Ignis was standing alone on the balcony, looking out over the city, and Gladio didn't want any of them to be alone tonight. Least of all himself.

 

Though it was deep beneath the ground, the moogle city (Ignis was given to understand that the inhabitants called it Mogsgard) had its own kind of day and night. Shafts for light and ventilation punctured the vast cavern roof, and for the winged moogles they provided easy access to the surface, for errands or a pleasant nap in the sunshine. Ignis would need wings himself to ascend up one, but the openings scattered columns of light throughout the city during the day, and provided a gentle breeze at night. From the balcony of the guest chambers, overlooking the domes and windows of the city, Ignis thought it as pleasant a view as he'd ever seen. 

And he _could_ see it. His restored sight was a marvel that had not lost a fraction of its wonder. For all his teasing to Prompto about not thinking about it too hard, Ignis had not been able to stop thinking about it, himself. About what it meant. About the nature of this world and their lives here. About scars that faded but did not vanish, about sight healed from his injury but still with his old familiar bit of astigmatism. About Noct, fighting past his fear in the dark and summoning a magic unknown to any of them. About the bar code that Prompto still wore. About Gladio's dreams of his sister. About Luna's haunted eyes, Ravus' flesh-and-blood-hand, Nyx's lost sister. About a car and a crystal and Moogles with a tailors guild. 

Ignis thought about it, but it got him nowhere. All his life, Gods and Kings had taken things away from him. Slowly, painfully, one precious thing after another. Each time Ignis thought, _nothing can hurt more than this_. Each time, he was wrong. 

A week or a lifetime ago, in another world, a daemon's blade tore through Ignis' chest as he fought on the steps of the Citadel of Lucis. He heard Prompto scream, heard the sound of his own ribs shattering, felt the dizzying sudden loss of blood and he thought, _at last_. A wound without recovery. The last thing the gods could take from him. _It's over. No more._ Darkness came. Not the muddled greyish dark he'd known for years, not the bruised sky he'd imagined from Gladio's description of their ruined world. This was a complete nothing. Velvety. Impenetrable. Peaceful. It could last forever. 

It didn't. 

Noct's voice called his name. Something bright. Something blinding. _Light_. Ignis could see; but as he so often saw in his dreams, there was nothing strange about that. Or about the place between life and death where he stood, and gave his strength to his king for a final blow. Noct became light and Ardyn became ash and that should have been the end of it. But it wasn't. There was... this. This ludicrous, impossibly real world. 

The planter of decorative mosses and mushrooms on the balcony had a small bat sleeping in a soft clump of lichen--it had a notch in its left ear and perfect, curled claws. Down in the city, a moogle bobbed down the street, pushing his cider-cart on one last round. Ignis gave the sculpted stonework railing a good prod with his finger. It was solid, and it scraped his fingernail.

"I'm pretty sure it's up to code, Iggy." Gladio stepped out on the balcony, shirtless, hair-half-falling from its tie. He looked like something from a tawdry romance novel cover, and Ignis could not quite convince his eyes to roll in exasperation, and look away from him. 

"Do you think they _have_ building codes?" 

Gladio swept his arm out to indicate the dim, sparkling vista of the underground city. "They have a chocobo powered ropeway, you bet they have building codes. Probably gotta building code...guild." He folded his arms on the balustrade, and smiled out at nothing. "...Trouble sleeping?" 

Ignis was not fooled. Gladio kept asking, but Ignis was not quite ready to delve into his dreams. His waking hours were perplexing enough. Luckily, he knew how to change the subject.

"This suits you," Ignis said, reaching out and combing his hands through the thick, warm weight of Gladio's hair at the nape of his neck. "Wearing your hair like this. I always liked how it felt; but I do believe I like how it looks even more." 

"Good to know," Gladio answered, chuckling. Ignis' deflection was obvious, but he did not press. He knew better. "I'd hate to think it actually looked bad for ten years." 

"Ten years," Ignis echoed, and there was pain and longing in his voice. "Ten years in the dark. Before tonight, it'd been decade since I last saw your face when we--" Ignis could not keep talking, and closed his eyes, as if his sight was too much of a good thing. He heard Gladio's step, felt tattooed arms encircle him, and the questions went still in his mind. Sometimes it was better not to question good fortune. So he put his cheek along Gladio's jaw, while his fingers found and loosed the tie in his hair. 

"I know, Ig," Gladio breathed. His mouth traced a path down Ignis' throat to the hollow of his collarbone. His hands swept down his back until they were full of Ignis' ass, gripping him through the soft leather of his uniform trousers. "I know." 

Ignis arched up against Gladio with a gasp as he lifted him up onto the balcony rail. "Show me again," he said. 

~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super behind on everything (especially comment replies), but still working on fic as much as I can. I've got a long list of stories I still want to tell, but summer is always busy. ♥ Thanks for your patience, everyone! I miss you, and I hope you're having fun playing Episode Prompto. ^_~


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